Syracuse
by LSgrimm91
Summary: Sam and Jack are captured and imprisoned on an alien planet. Can they overcome deception, betrayal and even death? Little bit of mythology, Lots of angst and borderline too much drama. Lots of other stuff too.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Oh god, how to put it into 25 words or less... Sam and Jack are captured and imprisoned on an alien planet. Can they overcome deception, betrayal and even death? So much to talk about! Little bit of mythology, bit of 'Shawshank Redemption' influence. Lots of stuff. Angst. Much angst.**  
><strong>Anote: So far to the left of canon, it's not funny. However, you all know me. It'll end semi-nicely. **_**Yes**_**, I know Syracuse is a city in Italy, but I like the name. Deal. It'll be angsty; it'll be sad. Tiny (as in **_**teeny**_** tiny) fragments of Sam/other and Jack/other, but you know ****it's all about the S/J love****. Thanks in advance to my beta :) Enjoy!**

**~ Syracuse ~**

Sam held onto her Colonel's jacket tightly and he returned the desperate, yet comforting action, though with far less energy. They had stepped through the gate yesterday morning. It was supposed to be a routine reconnaissance mission; Daniel wanted to trek the rolling hills to find a set of ruins mapped out by the UAV. So Sam and Colonel O'Neill had headed off in one direction, Daniel and Teal'c in the other.

It was only as they tried to cross a ridge of sand dunes that led to a beach that she heard his pained scream. She had turned back to find her Commanding Officer lying in the sand and a large metal clamp around his ankle... _Through_his booted ankle. If it was not for the thick leather of his combat boots, she was sure the razor sharp trap would have all but severed the limb.

God, she had _never_heard him cry out like that.

So now, she sat in the brown, bloodied sand, with the Colonel's head and shoulders in her lap as he clung to her like a child plagued by nightmares. They were completely soaked and Sam was shivering violently as the strong winds hit her back and the salty mist burned her eyes. She had been his windbreak during their sleepless night and was feeling the effects of her exhaustion. Jack had stopped shivering earlier that morning, which left her more than a little worried. He had been in shock for hours after he triggered the concealed trap.

Now, he had a fever and lost feeling below his knee. Sam could only guess the fever was a result of infection. The sharp, jagged edges of the metal clamp cut through his boot and were firmly embedded in his lower calf muscle. Any movement had him screaming in agony.

And now she found herself thinking how easy it would be to shoot him. or knock him out

It would put him out of his misery, even if for only an hour or so. She could bear the silence and if she couldn't, at least she would have chosen the lesser of two evils.

"Carter?" his weak voice managed to reach her ears against the biting wind and icy rain.

Sam closed her eyes and grimaced, instantly chastising herself for her previous, treacherous thoughts.

"Yes...S-Sir?" her teeth chattered.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, turning his face into her stomach and pressing the icy tip of his nose into her middle.

"Aside from the obvious?" she retorted with a weak smile. If she forced her body to relax, the shivering subsided slightly.

"'Course."

"Home, Sir," she dipped her chin and hunched her shoulders. The surface of his skin was cold, but she could feel the underlying heat. It was a morbid thought, but his fever kept her warm. They were as likely to die of exposure as injury or dehydration.

"Home, sweet home..." he mused and huffed a chuckle, "I got this one."

"Sir?" she opened one eye and saw a tiny twitch in the corner of his.

"A charm from the skies seems to hallow us here, which, seek through the world, is never met with elsewhere..." His voice was breathy and Sam opened both eyes to stare at her Colonel in fascination. "...Home! Home! Sweet, sweet home!"

Jack's chest rumbled with an unheard laugh as he continued.

"There's no place like home!" he concluded. Sam sniffed and let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding.

"Sir, did you just spout a line of poetry to me?" Sam asked cheekily. There was not much enthusiasm in her voice, but Jack picked up what was there.

"Opera. Clari, Maid of Milan. It's where that expression comes from."

"I didn't know that," She confessed.

"Score one for me." He smiled tiredly. "And you know..." he mumbled, causing Sam to gather him completely in her arms, "...it ain't over 'till the fat lady sings."

"It's not over Sir," Sam shook her wet head.

"Carter?"

"What?"

"I'm glad you disobeyed my order," he sighed.

As the sun had set the previous night, he ordered her to leave him and go get help. Sam had refused. She sat down, pulled her CO into her lap and held on for dear life. They could only hope that Daniel and Teal'c found them. It was strange, but in her panicked attempt to call for help, she found their radios unresponsive.

"Learned from the best," she whispered. She was exhausted and only her grip on the Colonel kept her sitting upright. "I'm gonna shut my eyes for a bit, Sir. If I fall asleep, wake me up," she requested as her chin fell onto her collar bone.

Little did Sam realise that the Colonel did not intend to wake her. He knew she was absolutely drained, both emotionally and physically. He was prepared to let her sleep for an hour or so; at least until he was nearly asleep himself. He didn't get that far, and was soon dozing in her lap.

Sam's sleep was cut short by a sharp, stinging sensation in different parts of her body: her forearms, her shoulders, her thighs and calves. As she returned to their hellish excuse for reality, the pain became stronger. Something was tugging at her flesh; something beneath her skin. Then it pulled viciously and Sam could feel her flesh tearing. There was voices and screams around her. As the pulling at her body continued, Sam identified the screaming as that of her Colonel and her own. She opened her eyes for only a second before she let out another cry. Hot blood ran down her limbs and warmed her skin, creating tiny goosebumps.

They were surrounded. Four, maybe five men stood in the sand with metal cables in their hands. She didn't have the mindset to take in their appearances, too consumed by what they were actually doing to her. By the way they were pulling them, Sam felt like they had stabbed her with small harpoons and were trying to reel in their catch. Was this how it felt to be drawn and quartered? Surely, she would die of blood loss or shock.

"CARTER! LEMME GO!" Jack roared loudly, writhing aggressively. Sam realised she was still holding onto him. If these men were trying to pull her away from him, she was forcing that clamp further into his leg. She nearly passed out from the pain.

Sam released him, as ordered. She was, first and foremost, a soldier. They dragged her through the wet sand by the darts in her skin and the last thing she heard was her own strangled voice screaming her Colonel's name.

~ SJ ~

**Ooh, dramatic. Stay tuned for the next chapter. Reviews welcome. I do not own the Opera of 'Clari, The maid of Milan'. Thought it might give Jack a bit of depth. Stay Tuned. Two stories at once. Oh my :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary: Sam and Jack wake up in a sticky situation.**  
><strong>Aramble: Honey crackles. That is all. However, there are none in this chapter. Thank you, Adi :)**

~ 2 ~

The hooks pulled and tore her flesh. Some dug into bone and new darts pierced her skin when old ones proved too sharp and sliced through. The sand fell away and turned to cold stone. The icy metal warmed and dissolved in her muscles, the men loosening the lines. There was silence around her. No voices. No screaming. No wind or rain or rolling ocean waves. No Colonel.

Sam startled awake.

She couldn't see, but she could feel the rough linen grasped in her hands and the abrasive grain of stone beneath her seated figure. She felt no pain, rather patches of heat across her body. This wasn't right. She ran her hands up her thighs. Where were her wet BDUs? She found soft linen instead of the familiar cotton blend. Her hands continued up and collided with something firm around her stomach.

Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the pale glow of early sunrise streaming in through the open door on the other side of the room. She could make out shapes and silhouettes around her. The room had to be about fifteen feet by fifteen, no windows and a single doorway. Minus the door. Her body was covered in creamy linen; just a simple pair of pants and a long sleeve shirt. There was a thick blanket beneath her, guarding her from the hard floor.

She stood on shaky legs, and pulled at the sleeves of her shirt. Blindly, she touched her arms and ran over several lines of scabbing skin. How long had she been out? And better yet, where was the Colonel?

The horizon continued to glow an eerie red. Sam looked to the doorway and took a few steps forward. She didn't see the force field and stumbled to the floor. Of course. No flow of air. With the pain of her hard fall, a sharp pain stabbed into the middle of her back. There was something solid circling her waist. Lifting up her shirt, Sam found a thick band of metal around her middle. At least she presumed it was metal. It flexed and warped like worn leather and was cool to the touch.

It glistened in the light of the sun that had peaked over a building across what Sam could now see as a sandy courtyard. She reached out and touched the force field with an open hand, positioning it between the rising sun and her eyes. As soon as she touched the glassy surface, the sharp pain in her back returned. She quickly withdrew her hand, leaving the field to crackle like blue, chipping ice. She would have guessed the technology was Goa'uld, but the colour was much darker. The sun rose completely and when it did so, the crackling field fell away like water. She reached out again and tried to touch the barrier. Instead, a warm breeze met her hand.

Eying the doorway, Sam stepped out into the courtyard.

Now that she could see more clearly, she took in her surroundings. The courtyard wasn't exactly a courtyard. She could only describe the massive construction surrounding her as a colosseum. But where she expected a grandstand, she found four levels with similar stone doorways to the one she now stood in. There was a grand gate at two o'clock from her position. If she were on Earth, she would have guessed either ancient Greece or Rome. Her gaze was drawn to the enthralling sculpture standing in the middle of the courtyard.

It was a good twelve feet tall, chiselled out of black stone; a shirtless man looking to the sky with an agonised scream frozen on his lips. But this was not the most interesting part of the monument. His feet were hidden in a pool of hot, burning oil. Perhaps the stone was not black in colour, but made so by the soot of the flames engulfing him. Sam could hear the cry of pain when she looked at his contorted face and clenched fists.

A familiar groan caused her heart to race in her chest.

"Colonel!" she looked to the door on her left to see her Commanding Officer hanging from the stone arch. His right foot gingerly hovered above the sandy ground as he clung to the doorway for support.

"Carter?" His eyes found hers as he grimaced in the bright light. She was at his side in an instant. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know, Sir," she began looking over his exposed skin for any injuries. He stopped her with a firm grip on her wrist.

"You alright?" he asked, perusing her arms and legs as she had him. She nodded, her eyes dropping to his right leg.

"Your ankle-"

"It's fine," he shook his head. She didn't really believe him. With little regard to his protests, Sam pulled him back into his cell and wordless urged him to sit down.

"I want to see," she demanded, pushing the leg of his pants up to reveal his ankle. The bruising was extensive and a ring of angry, healing fresh circles his calf, but otherwise, he was fine.

"Told you."

She looked up at him and held his gaze. When he smiled, she let out a sigh of relief and sat down.

"What's with the girdles?" her Colonel asked, lifting the end of his shirt and touching the identical band of metal.

"I'm not sure. They seem to work like control collars. When I touched the force field it-"

"Force field?" he interrupted.

"The shields in the doorway. You didn't see them?" The colonel shook his head, lower his shirt.

"Nah. I just woke up and came outside."

Sam thought carefully. "They deactivated when the sun came up. I guess they come back when it goes down again," she shrugged.

"Did you see how many people were coming outta the walls just now?" Sam frowned. The Colonel grimaced and elaborated.

"What if you aren't inside when the sun goes down?"

~ SJ ~

**Stay Tuned :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/note: Far out, this just fell out of my brain. Took some effort to get my head around the story again. Been focusing on MYOTOS. We'll get to the good stuff - if it all goes to plan - pretty much next chapter. There's good stuff in this chapter too. I'm not in a writing mood, but I'll push it for you lovelies. Thank you for the reviews and curious interest. **

**~ 3 ~**

"I'm not sure, Sir. I don't think I'm willing to tempt fate to find out either," Sam looked out the stone archway to the courtyard where a mass of people had begun to form. The Colonel groaned behind her and she looked over her shoulder. He was rubbing his leg, his discomfort evident in the grimace he wore. She decided not to tell him that she had considered shooting him to put him out of his misery. Now was not the time to talk about that.

"Feels like rope burn," he explained as he tried to strangle his ankle. Sam sat down beside him and pulled his hands away.

"Rubbing it won't help," she tried not to sound patronising and shook her head. Outside, Sam noticed a few curious by-passers looking into their cell. Everyone else gathered around the opposite side of the courtyard with ceramic and wooden bowls. Must be breakfast time.

"Carter?" Sam turned back to the Colonel.

"Sorry, Sir. What did you say?" she asked, deliberately focusing on him to assure him he had her attention this time.

"I asked you if you were okay. I know I was a bit out of it back there, but I remember ropes and a lot of blood," his eyes perused her body, searching for any sign of injury. Sam pulled up her sleeves to look at her forearms.

"They used hooks or something. I swear I'd been harpooned. They went straight through to the bone," she ran her fingers over the hot spot on her arm. There was a visible scar shaped like a cross, reddened by whatever healing process she'd gone through while she was unconscious. Colonel O'Neill leaned forwards and, not so gently, grabbed her arm.

"How long have we been out of it?" his thumb traced the scar on her arm.

"I have no idea, Sir. I don't think we're even on the same planet. We could be, but it's just as likely that we're not," Sam shrugged, pulling her arm away from the Colonel, who held on for a second longer before releasing her.

"We need to do some recon. Find out where we are and how the hell to get outta here," the Colonel tried to stand, but was a bit shaky on his weaker leg. Sam pulled him up by his elbow and smiled when he pushed her away like a petulant child. "And maybe find some food while we're at it. I'm starving."

They stepped out into the courtyard, where the majority of large crowd had settled into groups while they ate. They were all dressed in the same creamy linen clothing, which Sam noted was very clean. She also couldn't help but notice the absence of children and elderly. As far as she could tell, most of the inhabitants of the colosseum were human. Some glanced at the newcomers, but only one or two took the time from eating their breakfast to blatantly stare at the Earthlings.

"This looks promising," the Colonel nudged her arm, pointing to a young woman who was weaving through the seat groups towards them. Sam instantly recognised the woman's race as - unless she was mistaken - Nox. The youthful face and mass of wiry hair supported the theory, but Sam had to wonder why such a young Nox was here, unless she'd been taken by force. Sam and the Colonel exchanged a look, wondering who would be the first to speak. They'd agreed that it was arrogant to assume most alien races spoke English, but if the woman was Nox, she'd pick up the language very quickly.

"Hi. Colonel Jack O'Neill," he pointed to his chest, then to Sam, "this is Major Sam Carter. Don't suppose you can tell us where we are or what this place..." The Colonel stopped when the woman interrupted him and gestured for them to accompany her. Sam looked to her Colonel, who shrugged, then followed him through the crowd.

A few people looked up at them as they passed, but Sam felt the gaze of one man in particular. He was sitting against the stone wall on the other side of the courtyard; he wasn't eating or talking to the others. Just watching. His cool stare unnerved Sam, but she couldn't look away. She could clearly discern a thick head of shoulder-length, sandy blonde hair, and a pair of ocean blue eyes, much like her own. As Sam continued to stare, she couldn't ignore the feeling that this man was familiar. Which, of course, was quite impossible. Then again, the galaxy could be a small place. Sometimes.

In her peripheral vision, the Colonel stopped. Sam tore her attention from the blonde man and laid it on the Nox woman. The woman pointed to herself.

"Merrit."

The Colonel smiled. He knew the more he talked, the better her English would become.

"Nice to meet you Merrit. You got anything to eat around here? And then maybe you could answer a few questions for us," Merrit looked over her shoulder to a large doorway and then pointed to it.

"There," she mumbled. Lord, she was a shy creature. The Colonel clapped his hands together quietly and went inside, muttering something about smelling food. Sam stayed with Merrit, who appeared to have a taken a curious interest in her. The Colonel called out to Sam, advising her that there was 'food to be had'. Inside, Sam found baskets of what she could only guess were a variety of native fruits, and the Colonel leaning into an oversized pot with a clay bowl in his hands. Sam watched him, sincerely hoping he wouldn't fall in. Although the part of her that liked to laugh at him wished he would.

"You will be sold," Merrit spoke quietly. Sam turned to the shorter teen.

"What?"

"We..." Merrit frowned as she tried to articulate her explanation. "...are brought. To fight. To trade. To work," she spoke slowly.

"So we're going to be sold off to the highest bidder for whatever they want?" the Colonel asked, arriving with a bowl of what looked like wholemeal porridge and two fruits that looked like yellow apples. He handed Sam the bowl and one of the apple things.

"Yes. We live here," she looked to Colonel O'Neill, "you will go out tomorrow with the men."

"And do what, exactly?"

Merrit looked around the room, "Work in the fields. Bring food back." Her grasp on the language was improving.

"What about me?" Sam wondered as she bit into the apple-like fruit. It had the texture of an apple, but was very sweet. Like a mango.

"You will stay. Prepare the food for the afternoon meal. Clean the clothes."

Basically, archaic women's work. The concept of 'hunter and gatherer' appeared to be universal, which annoyed Sam to no end. She glared at the Colonel when he had the audacity to chuckle at her irritated sigh.

"Anything else we need to know?" The Colonel added, trying to divert Sam's angry stare.

"Your place. You must follow the rules." Merrit expression grew serious.

"Which are?"

"The women eat first," Sam grinned at this. Score one for the ladies. "The men have their own order."

"What? Like a pecking order?" the Colonel mumbled, his mouth full of food. Merrit frowned, obviously not understanding the term. "Uh... like the strongest eat first? The ones in charge?"

Merrit nodded.

"Joy," the Colonel groused, "so how do you get high up in the food chain?"

"You must fight and win," Merrit said sadly. She obviously hated the idea of conflict.

"To the death?" Sam asked, knowing the Colonel would try and force his way into a position of respect.

"No. Until blood stains the sand."

That wasn't so bad. But if they were to escape, they would either need to be in a position of influence, or very good friends with someone who was. If Sam knew the Colonel as well as she did, he would prefer the former. Sam realised she hadn't tried the food in the bowl. She had lost her appetite and offered the porridge to the Colonel, who took it after giving her a 'you're sure?' look. She nodded and he took it with a shrug of one shoulder.

"So, what do we do today?" the Colonel asked as he stuck his index finger in the porridge and licked it.

"Rest. But I must tell you: you must be in your room by sunset."

"Why? What happens if we stay outside?" He tasted the porridge and found it to his liking.

"You will burn."

"Burn?" His mouth was full of porridge, which he offered to Sam again with a nod of his head. She tried it and found that it tasted better than it looked. Merrit simply nodded to them. "Well, do we have to stay in our own rooms?"

This question startled Sam. Tactically, sharing a room would make planning their escape easier, but she knew that it would invite the kind of trouble she and Jack preferred to avoid.

"No, you don't. You may sleep in the same room. It can be cold at night, and many of us share the blankets for warmth." Sam managed to look the Colonel in the eye. He didn't seem too worried, but she could see he acknowledged the implications.

During the day, they had searched every square inch of the colosseum. At least all the parts they had access to. The Colonel had taken note of the statue in the courtyard as she had earlier; he thought it was 'very, very cool'. They didn't find anything that could tell them where they were, or how to get home. By the end of the day, the men returned and they ate their afternoon meal in silence, making careful observations. Sam had been surprised to see that the blonde man was one of the first to eat.

As the sun neared the horizon, everyone began to return to their rooms. As Merrit had said, the people went in pairs or threes. So, when the Colonel came to Sam's room with his blanket on his shoulder, she didn't argue. She watched the shield in the doorway activate, sealing her inside with the Colonel. It wasn't cold, so there was no need to share the blankets. But he did settle himself about a metre from her. Just out of arms length.

~ SJ ~

**Right, now that I'm past the icky setup stuff, we can get around to the plot. And I can only say it's going to be very interesting. And Dramatic; soap-opera/kill-me-now/mushy drama. Hopefully, angsty/crying-and-sighing drama.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/Ramble: Well, I've had to revise my A/N. Real life (in the form of my mum's surgery) has kept me absent, but the time away created a loss of motivation for writing. Well, I now have a reason. I won't be writing for myself any more. I work for you guys, and whatever joy and entertainment I can bring you :) Enjoy!**

~ 4 ~

Sam opened one eye and craned her neck to look at the weight pressed into her stomach. It wasn't the metal band, but sat just above it. She'd been awake for most of the night, but somewhere during the periods when she had managed to doze off, something had found a home across her middle. It was a hand. Actually, it was an entire arm. If her suspicions were correct, and she followed that arm to its owner, she would find it belonged to her Colonel.

Yep.

He had rolled during the night and now lay right next to her on his stomach, an arm thrown protectively over her torso. It was a simple puzzle, but escaping from this potentially awkward situation was deceptively complex. Screw it. They would have to get up soon anyway.

Sam grabbed his hand and lifted it, depositing it between their prone bodies. He didn't budge. Bastard; how dare he be so damn comfortable. She rolled away from him, gathering her blanket under her chin. The sun was beginning to rise outside and she heard the Colonel's stomach growl. With a carefully aimed kick, her heel connected with the side of his right knee. The poor man yelped and nearly jumped to his feet.

Under the safety of her blanket, Sam muffled a giggle.

"What the hell," her Colonel groaned while Sam set her expression to neutral and simply raised a sleepy eyebrow at him. It took many years of practice to perfect the art of _not_ laughing. Especially when a fit of giggles was warranted.

"Time to get up, Sir."

"Right. Fields to plough. Dirt to move... yadda yadda..." he muttered as he paddled around the room in search of the sandals they had been given by Merrit yesterday. "One thing I like about this joint: no draft."

That much was true. The only thing cold about their room was the floor. Sam knew that would change as soon as the shield in the doorway dropped. The flames engulfing the statue in the courtyard had been a mesmerising view during the night, but they flickered in what she suspected was a cool sea breeze. They had surmised by the scent in the air that they were still near the coastline. That was a positive sign; perhaps they were on the same planet.

"That's cool."

Sam rolled over to see whatever had caught the Colonel's attention. He was on the far side of the room with one sandal on and in the process of donning the other. He had pulled the leg of his pants up to his knee and was carefully examining his ankle.

"What's cool, Sir?" Sam asked with a yawn and a stretch.

"No scar," he continued to look over the joint from every angle, not noticing as Sam came over with the blanket wrapped around her shoulders. As far as she could tell, he was correct. She glanced at his other leg; just in case they had somehow forgotten which one sported his earlier injury. Looking at her own body, she couldn't find any evidence of the cuts gained during their capture. Very strange.

The Colonel rubbed a hand across his chin as he considered his quick recovery.

"I don't need to shave," he observed as the sun rose, causing the shield to drop behind them, "but I should."

"I still feel really clean, Sir," Sam added. She discretely ran the back of her finger against her shin. The fine layer of regrowth she expected to find was not there; just smooth skin.

"Talk more over breakfast." Before Sam could process the new circumstances of their predicament, the Colonel took her hand and pulled her to her feet. He pushed her sandals into her chest. "Meet you outside," he gestured over his shoulder with his thumb and left the room.

~ SJ ~

After breakfast, during which they could only continue to guess about their situation, Sam gave her CO a fleeting look as he followed most - but not all - the men out of the colosseum and down the dirty track to the fields. She stood by the burning statue, looking through the grand stony gates as the other women began to pull wooden bins and baskets and other primitive devices for the preparation of food from a storeroom.

"They will return long before sunset," a voice addressed Sam from behind her right shoulder. She turned and was confronted by a short woman in her late forties or early fifties. Her hair was a smoky grey and though it was a bit creepy, she had a pair of brilliant, fiery red eyes.

Sam smiled politely, unsure of what to say. The woman squinted intently at her. It wasn't the first time Sam wondered such a thing, but why did most of the cultures they encountered speak English?

"I guess we're just unsure about this place," Sam suggested with a shrug. "I'm Sam," she added, placing a hand on her chest.

"Xerus," the woman bowed her head. Surely that was an ancient Greek name. Maybe Roman? Italian? Where was Daniel when he was really needed? "I am one of the longest serving residents of Syracuse-"

"Syracuse?" Sam interrupted. "Sorry... Um, this place is 'Syracuse'?"

"Syracuse is many things. But it the name of this place. We live here until we are sold for the purposes of the buyer," Xerus explained, opening a hand to their surroundings.

"Yeah, Merrit explained that yesterday. So you know who the men were that captured us?" Sam folded her arms and turned to face the woman. "I mean, who put these bands on us?" she lifted her shirt, exposing the metal band. "Who owns this place anyway?"

The woman smirked. "You will learn that all things come at a price, Sam."

"What? You want something for information?" Sam slumped and looked towards the open gates again. "Great. I'm having a 'Shawshank Redemption' moment..." she muttered. Xerus gave her a look that reflected her lack of understanding.

"I don't have anything. Whoever captured us took all of our belongings," Sam shook her head. Xerus puckered her lips slightly and looked out of the gates.

"He is a handsome man. You are a fortunate woman."

The woman seemed to feel that Sam and the Colonel were married. Well, it wouldn't be the first time. Sometimes people assumed she was married to Daniel. In fact, one culture praised her for having three husbands. She had had such a great time with that particular matriarchal society. But, as she did almost every other time - except when circumstances _required_ her to live the lie - she denied the assumption.

"He and I are friends. We're not involved." The woman appeared enlightened with this information.

"Really?" she grinned. At its own volition, the corner of Sam's eye twitched. She was sure that pimping her Commanding Officer for information was against regulations. But what an amusing regulation it would be to read!

"If you have any interest in Sir, you should speak to him yourself. I can't-" Sam stopped. She was about to say that she held no claims over him. She reconsidered, "But he won't listen to you unless I assure him you're a friend." Sam offered the woman a knowing smirk.

Two can play this kind of game.

"Well, you can assure... Sir? Was it? That I am a friend."

"I call him 'Sir'. His name is Jack. Now, how about you tell me who put these bands on us, and I'll introduce you to him tonight," Sam pulled at the flexible band around her waist. They were at least malleable. Xerus considered the proposal, but seemed quiet relaxed to find Sam a savvy as she was.

"There is one man that works up there," Xerus pointed to a single door on the highest level of the far side of the colosseum, "he puts the bands on and inflicts the punishment on prisoners that attempt to escape or cannot function in our society. I can't tell you his name. Does this satisfy you, _friend_?"

Honestly, it didn't completely satisfy Sam, but it was a start.

"It does; thank you. Perhaps we could eat with you tonight?" Sam offered, holding out her hand. Xerus shook it.

"I will come to you at our evening meal and meet this man of yours."

Across the courtyard, starting silently next to Merrit as she sorted some fruit, the sandy-haired man watched the women during their exchange. Xerus was good at making first contact. It wouldn't be long until the Colonel made his move and the good Major would dance like a marionette. But all in good time. The dominoes would fall as they always did. Humans were predictable. At least, to him and Xerus they were.

~ SJ ~

**Apologies, I know that last bit was cryptic. We will see more of this guy and Xerus (the X is a Z sound... like Xena). I couldn't help the Shawshank Redemption reference. That is such a good movie. Talk to me folks, I need to know what you think of this.  
>And - just quickly - I'd like to share something funny. I was trying to come up with a couple name for Sam and Jack. These are some: Jarter, Jam, Smack (don't ask) and Sack. My favourite, however, is 'JamSack'. How do you like the Jamsack?<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**A/Ramble: I admit it. With work and sport, I'm struggling with two stories. However, I won't be putting either on hiatus. I just hope you guys can live with the delays, particularly with this story. But, if you can bear with me, we'll just keep chugging along. Thank you for the kind feedback and reviews too. Enjoy!  
>* Does get a little grizzly and the bottom. Be warned. <strong>

**~ 5 ~**

Sam was waiting inside the main gates for the men to return, her foot propped against the sandstone wall, and, while she tried to look casual, she carefully observed the way the other women interacted. Her eyes frequently fell on the sandy-haired man as he walked through the crowd of women. They had finished preparing the meals for the day and some of the older women were already eating: a sign that the men weren't far away.

She continued to watch the sandy-haired man, whom she called 'Blondie' . He would walk around, apparently unnoticed by the other women. He never spoke to them, or even made eye contact. She would have thought he seemed smug, or perhaps arrogant if not for the brief moments when his eyes would connect with hers. He knew he was being watched.

"Honey, I'm home," she jumped when the Colonel appeared next to her, also leaning on the wall and blinking his eyes innocently at her.

"Sir, you're back."

"Ten points for observation," he smirked, pushing off the wall with her to follow the mass of weary men into the colosseum. For what the Colonel had described as a 'good, hard day's work', Sam could never believe how clean they were when they arrived home. He could only say the sand never snuck to their clothes and the dry winds kept them from perspiring too hard.

"How was your day?" she asked casually, trying not to sound like she was going along with the domestic jokes, which had been in abundance since they had made their new sleeping arrangements.

"Pretty good. I can't say I'm really tired. You get much done here?" They weaved through the crowd to the left side of the courtyard, just outside their room. With a tiresome groan, Jack slid down the rough wall and nestled in the sand.

"Actually, yes. I met a woman that may be able to help us; well, at least offer some intel." Jack lifted his eyebrows a little. Sam suddenly frowned when she remembered the terms of the agreement she'd made with Xerus. "Oh..."

"What?"

"She would like to meet you..." Sam started to exchange a handful of sand between her hands. "I think she taken a liking to you, Sir."

He snorted.

"Uh huh. Next?"

She said nothing.

"You're kidding, right?" Sam shook her head. "Really?"

"I thought we could use it to our advantage. She claims to have lived here a long time. I found out they call this place 'Syracuse'." Sam's eyes followed Blondie as he perused the courtyard. He was talking to the others now, but still glancing their way occasionally.

"As in the one in New York?"

"I doubt it, Sir. She's very keen to meet you. It may give us some important intel."

The Colonel sighed and pulled at the bottom of his shirt. He was always doing that; was it some sort of obsessive compulsive thing or did the action actually serve a purpose?

"Fine. As long as we go get some food." And that was her Colonel. To the casual observer, he seems simple-minded. She knew better and that was a very comforting thought. She had to smile to him and was warmed by the impish smirk he gave in return. They pushed off the wall and made their way to the collection of stockpots that held their dinner. "Xerus, right?"

"Yes, Sir."

~ SJ ~

"So how'd it go?" Sam asked as she lay on her back in their room. The Sun wasn't down yet and the shield was still up.

Xerus had found Sam and Jack during the evening meal, which was quite a delicious stew - though Jack assured her she didn't want to know what meat was used - and bread. She had been quick to engage Jack in an obviously private conversation, which annoyed Sam to no end. She couldn't ignore the looks Xerus gave her Colonel. She looked like she was going to bite his neck or something.

"It was weird."

"Weird?"

Her Colonel rolled onto his side, propping his head on his elbow. Sam rolled towards him and mirrored to the position. She pulled her blanket up and over her shoulder. It was cooler this evening than yesterday.

"She asked a lot of questions."

"About Earth?" Sam frowned, gripping her blanket tightly.

"No. And thinking back, I found her pretty damn trustworthy." Jack rolled even closer towards Sam and onto his stomach, folding his arms in front of him to rest his chin on them. "Obviously I didn't really tell her much."

"Obviously."

Jack glanced sideways at her.

"You're right. She does seem to know the place pretty well. She wouldn't tell me who runs the place or anything imperative like that..."

'Imperative?' Sam briefly mused.

"...But she told me other stuff. She was pointing out the hunters and miners," he turned to her again, "and the fishers."

"Fishers?" Sam frowned, but quickly understood, "So we're near the sea?"

"Yeah. They don't actually fish much-"

"That's a shame. It would be perfect for you," Sam teased with a friendly smile. Jack chuckled quietly and looked behind him to the doorway when the force field activated. Sunset.

"That's what I thought. But when I was talking to her, it felt like the first time Hathor hit me with 'the breath'." He waved his fingers at his head. "It just messed up the way I think."

'Yes. Because I can understand how _that _works.' Sam thought, trying to hide a smirk.

"I dunno. Just have to be careful. Did you see her eyes though? Red as rubies!" he rolled again onto his back, this time stopping within a few inches of Sam. What on Earth - not that it applied here - was he doing?

Suddenly, Jack lifted a hand and clicked his fingers. He groaned as he sat up and began playing with the drawstring of his pants. Again, Sam wondered what he was doing.

"Found something in the fields." He had the end of one of the drawstrings in his fingers. With a bit of effort, he pulled something off the end and held out his closed fist. Sam hesitantly held her hand out beneath his fist. He opened his fingers and Sam felt something small fall into her hand. In the fading light, Sam touched the object carefully with the tips of her fingers.

"Feels like a button."

"It is a button. It's plastic. Figured that was a positive sign."

"It is-"

An agonised scream startled them and they quickly rose to their feet. Sam made it to the doorway first and felt the light pressure of the Colonel's shoulder next to hers. She could see the silhouette of a man lying outside in the courtyard, writhing in the sand and screaming until he choked on the sounds.

"What did Merrit say would happen if you didn't get to your room by sunset?" Jack asked, his eyes fixed on the man outside.

"You burn."

"Do you think that was a metaphor?"

No sooner had he asked, but the screaming man seemed to begin to smoke and glow. He screamed even louder as his clothes caught alight, tossing sand around him in every direction. Sam gasped and covered her mouth in horror, taking a step back into her Commanding Officer. He held fast and watched as the man's very skin began to combust. And still he screamed and cried. Why wasn't he dying?

Amidst the cold shrieking of the man outside, Jack heard Sam shudder a breath. He could imagine her expression. She'd try to keep herself in check. She push down the urge to beat at the shield and try to help. She wouldn't try to cover her ears to block out the sound. But she would by hurting to see this.

"Come on," he grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the back of the room, grabbing their blankets on the way, "we can't do anything."

"I know, but..." she was almost speechless as she watched the glow of the flames dance across the stone walls of the cell. She grimaced and shook her head. Jack pulled her down into the corner of the room, against the wall.

"Close your eyes. Block it out. Cover your ears if you have to." If he gave her his permission, she'd protect herself from the horrifying reality of this prison. Sam rested her head against the wall and covered her other ear with a clenched fist. The one holding the button. Jack could only cover their legs with the blankets and try not to look to the doorway. From this angle they couldn't see the man.

Sadly, for Jack, this wasn't so unfamiliar. Torture comes in many forms, but has the same effect. He could only focus on Sam. She wasn't weak; he knew that. But if she let him look after her, he would have to focus on the man burning alive outside.

And why the heck he wasn't dead yet.

~ SJ ~

**Okay, off to do the next chapter. Don't have to worry about the next two chapters of MYOTOS. Already done. **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/Ramble: Netball trip... OMG... Let me tell you one thing we did too often (because what happens on netty trip, **_**stays**_** on the netty trip), it's called 'Dead Ants'. Someone blows a whistle and everyone drops to the ground (no matter where you are) and waves their arms and legs in the air. I did it about 30 times... Anyway, Enjoy!**

**~ 6 ~**

The sun was teasing the horizon and the warm body beside her moved. Looking to her side, Sam found the Colonel as awake as she was. Outside, the burning man still writhed and whipped violently in the ditch he'd made during the night. She didn't want to think about the fact that he was still alive, but she couldn't ignore it either. She could distinctly remember the moment he'd lost his voice and was reduced to hollow, guttural non-screams that couldn't penetrate the force field.

She couldn't think of any crime that would warrant this kind of punishment. Clearly, the band, like the one every inmate wore, was responsible for combusting the man's body and - somehow - keeping him alive. And knowing that the one trapping Sam's own middle was capable of inflicting the same degree of torture, quite frankly, scared her. She was neither afraid to admit nor hide that fear from her Colonel.

She had shamelessly accepted the comfort he had offered during the night. Nothing they had learned in their military training had prepared them for this. Oh, they'd been prepared for torture in countless forms; this was just a bit too much for either of them. After the circumstances of their capture and imprisonment, seeing a man burn alive for ten hours was just too much. So here she sat; knees wedged under her chin and leaning into her Colonel's side with his arm tightly around her shoulders, practically cowering in the corner of the room.

The sky turned a deep orange, tainting the distant line of clouds a bloody red. Her feet hurt from the pressure of staying in one spot for so long and her back was stiff and she dreaded the fact that she would have to eventually get up.

"Hey..." the Colonel jostled her, his eyes fixed to the man outside, "... he's stopped."

Hesitantly Sam lifted her eyes to the clump of burnt, and now smoking, human lay still on the ground as the crown of the sun peaked over the horizon; it was probably eager to see the night's events. Unfortunately, with dawn came the lowering of the force field. None of the other residents seemed willing to leave their rooms and it was obvious why. The blaze grew and roared loudly, fuelled by more than fresh. It crackled and changed in flashes of bright yellow to blue and white.

It simmered down and slowly disappeared, leaving a crater of blackened sand. With small shards of bone lodged in the sand. The metal band sat in the ditch, apparently unaffected by the inferno it had instigated.

"Where'd he go?" the Colonel frowned. "Damn, that would have been pretty hot..." He finally removed his arm from her shoulders.

"Understatement Sir," Sam retorted as she stared out the doorway.

To her surprise, Blondie walked out to the ditch - more like grave - of the deceased and swiped up the band, looping it through his elbow with perfect nonchalance. With a degree of disrespect that infuriated Sam, he kicked at the ashy sand until it blended with the yellow. He aimed his sandaled heel into a few places, breaking up some of the clumps. His stance and the way he tossed the metal band between his hands made Sam realise he may be younger than she first though. He was tall and his long hair hid his face, but looking at him now, he could have been in his early twenty. Heck, his late teens. The moment he turned his back on the scene, people began filing quietly out of their rooms.

"Major?" Jack asked from above her; she did see him stand. She looked up and rose on aching legs.

"I'd like to talk to that blonde man, Sir." Sam shook her head to dismiss the shakiness from the night's events. She would think about it later. She had a new target for information.

"Huh?" the Colonel grunted. Sam stepped around him and walked to the doorway; Jack followed closely. Many of the residents had stepped out into the courtyard and were clearly avoiding the blackened patch of sand. Blondie had already disposed of the metal band - where, Sam couldn't say - and now hovered silently over Xerus, who was sitting against one of the far walls with a small but content looking smile on her lips.

"The one with Xerus." Sam quickly glanced over her shoulder to her CO. They'd just witnessed Blondie take the man's band. How could the Colonel have been unclear of to whom she was referring?

"Huh..." he let out pensively. Sam recognised that look; when a new factor was introduced to a situation and he had to reconsider his plans. "I haven't seen him out in the fields. Or going out to the forest."

"He's here during the day, Sir. I think he's one of the people pulling the strings around here. He could be the one that put the bands on us. He may know how to remove them."

"Maybe. We'll see if we can _make _him talk."

Sam didn't like the way he accentuated 'make'. She could only nod and join the daily exodus from the rooms into the crowded yard and - as everyone else did - pretend today was just another day. She expected the Colonel to follow her and join the line for food, but he broke away and went straight towards Xerus. When Sam looked to the red-head, she was alone, barring the usual gathering of cronies that attended her at meal times. One that Jack was now becoming a part of.

And Blondie had disappeared again.

"Damnit!" Sam growled under her breath.

~ SJ ~

The days continued to pass in the same fashion until the ninth day in Syracuse. Sam was pleased to learn from Merrit that after eleven days of work, they had enough supplies to take a day of rest. Sam intended to take full advantage of this freedom. She was more than sick of her domestic duties of food preparation, although she did get to go out once to collect fruit from the forest.

The Colonel had been spending an increasing amount of time in Xerus' company, and the subtle change in his behaviour was beginning to unsettle Sam. He was distant in the evenings, his vocabulary had become notably more sophisticated and he had experienced headaches for the last three or four days. He was able to relay enough information to satisfy her that what he was doing was worth it, such as finding out Blondie's name: Zacabi. At first, Sam thought it was 'Zachary', but was firmly told that the Colonel had heard correctly and it was as he pronounced it. He was becoming more easily irritated as the days past; another reason for Sam to feel concerned. She didn't want to thing his judgement had been compromised.

As far as her own pursuit of Zacabi was concerned, she had come to the conclusion that he was the bastard son of a ninja. She would start following him, but the second he left her view, she would lose him. It was more frustrating that nobody really noticed him. She had to point him out to Merrit for her to acknowledge his presence. Thinking about it, very few paid the young man any attention. They would move their hands and legs from his path as he walked around during meals, but never looked at him. To that end, Sam confirmed that he didn't eat. At least in the public eye.

And speaking of eyes, she ascertained that his eyes were green, not blue. It was very strange. They appeared to change colour. At a distance, they were a deep, ocean blue. Upon closer inspection, they were quite green and at night, black as the Ace of Spades.

Now, Sam sat in her usual spot against the far wall of the Colosseum, next to Merrit, who had become her companion in lieu of the Colonel. She was troubled by an encounter she'd had with Jack last night.

_She was almost asleep, but was woken by the Colonel rolling closer to her. They'd doubled up on the blankets as the nights grew colder, but usually maintained a respectable distance. It seemed appropriate after evenings of increasing silence. That night had been rife with tension. So it surprised Sam when the Colonel spooned up to her, propped his head up on his elbow and spoke softly over her shoulder._

_"How ya doin', Carter?" he asked, the concern clear in his voice._

_"Fine, Sir," she replied automatically. His hand found her waist and slid down over her stomach. She was ready to question his actions when the hand stilled._

_"Finding out much on Zacabi?"_

_"He's hard to get close to. I can't get within twenty feet of him before he disappears." Sam turned her face down into her arm, slightly ashamed of her inability to catch one man. A man that she now believed was only in his late teens._

_"Keep trying. You'll get him." His hand pressed into her middle, "I've been an ass lately."_

_"If you say so, Sir," she felt the beginnings of a smile as she replied diplomatically. _

_"Yeah... Well. Sorry about that."_

_At this, Sam rolled onto her back, a confused frown gracing her brow. The Colonel wasn't big on apologies. He tucked his hand between her hip and his middle. He continued,_

_"Whatever happens from now on, I'm still you're CO. Got it?" he seemed quite serious, although Sam was unsure what brought this conversation along, or where it was leading. _

_"Of course... Sir," she nodded._

She had practically slept in his welcoming arms last night. So she was quite vexed by his surly attitude that morning. He was fine until she removed herself from his embrace.

Sam was still deep in thought as she continued to absently dig a channel in the sand with her foot. She was pulled from her thoughts by a sudden commotion on the other side of the statue. People were gathering in a circle, crying out and barracking with fists raised high.

"Oh no..." Merrit launched herself from the sand and moved quickly through the crowd. For a moment, Sam remained frozen in the warm sand. Soon, she too rose and followed Merrit into the heart of the ado.

What she found when she entered the void of bodies had her heart racing. The Colonel was circling in the man-made fighting ring, his fists clenched and blood already trickling down his cheek. Sam looked to the left to see Zacabi doing much the same, though he didn't appear as aggravated as Jack. In fact, he was quite calm, but clearly focussed. Jack pounced at him, driving a powerful punch into Zacabi's jaw. Zacabi's head snapped away, and he took pause to spit out a mouthful of blood. The blood fell to the sand and disappeared, not even leaving a mark.

Too distracted to be interested in strange phenomenon, Sam continued to watch the fight. The Colonel appeared to have the upper hand, but whenever blood fell from either man, it sank into the dry sand and left no stain. _'...when blood stains the sand.'_Merrit had informed them. How much more blood did the sands demand?

Jack hooked his leg behind Zacabi's knee and took the younger man off balance with a hard shove to the chest. Zacabi fell, still unperturbed and endured the Colonel's thundering punches. Zacabi's face was covered in bruises, but he didn't bleed as heavily as the Colonel. Jack lifted Zacabi by the collar and whispered something to the man, blood dripping onto Zacabi's shirt. Whatever Jack said, it brought a small smile and a nod to Zacabi. The moment was short lived when he pushed Jack off and the dog-fight continued in a much dirtier manner. Sam decided enough was enough.

"Colonel!" she called. Jack hesitated in his punches, but that was the only indication that he'd heard her. She tried again and got no response. Sam stepped into the small arena and got between him and Zacabi. Zacabi stopped in a Teal'c-like manner, very sober to her intervention. Jack on the other hand, roughly pushed her out of the way.

Sam didn't know what to think, but bounced back up and re-entered the scuffle. She must have caught Jack by surprise and landed a very hard hit to his cheek. Jack fell backwards, landing on his rear in the sand. He coughed and rubbed his cheek. Sam was furious and stood over her Commanding Officer, quite ready to continue the fight herself. Jack looked up at her and, for the briefest moment, sadness crossed his eyes. It was quickly replaced with spite. He stood on shaking legs and stared at her while he spat a mixture of blood and saliva to the ground. It landed in the golden grains and stained them red. Obviously, the fight was over.

Jack continued to glare at her, panting and sweating profusely in the wake of the scuffle. He just shook his head at Sam and walked past her, still staring until he reached Xerus. He touched her lower back and followed her out of the crowd. Sam couldn't comprehend what had just happened. Had the Colonel just turned on her? She was sore from her impact on the ground when he pushed her. And her knuckles stung from the sharp connection with his face.

A hand grabbed her elbow. She looked up to see Zacabi at her side. His eyebrows were arched and his eyes swimming with concern. The sudden turn of events were beginning to register and Sam felt the pressure of tears burn her eyes.

"Come," he ordered, pulling her by the elbow towards the gates. His hand slid down to her wrist as Sam looked back into the colosseum. She didn't see the Colonel and realised she didn't want to. Instead, she let Zacabi drag her into the wind, which, by the salty smell, led to the ocean.

~ SJ ~

**Ten hour days, five days a week. Sports on three nights a week. I am seriously at my end. Three day weekend, so I'm hoping to get ahead. Reviews of any kind, even to berate me for my neglect, are welcomed.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/Ramble: So, I've written three chapters this weekend :) Kind of proud. This is the fourth. I figure, I can do lots of writing on the weekend, and post during the week when I have absolutely no time to write. Please excuse the Chess lingo. Enjoy!**

**~ 7 ~**

As soon as they lost sight of the colosseum, Sam wrenched her hand from Zacabi's grip. Sand was still stuck to her skin and smears of Jack's blood patterned her clothes. She thrust the heel of her hand into her eye to force back the tears and let out an angry crawl through her clenched teeth.

What the hell as going on with him? If not for the surprising moment of tenderness shared the night before, Sam could excuse this as the climax of his increasingly worrying behaviour. But last night, they weren't even Colonel and Major; they were more like close friends. She didn't understand, which only angered Sam more. Why on Earth- Syracuse... wherever, would he pick a fight? With _Zacabi_, of all people?

At this, Sam remembered the young blonde man beside her, waiting patiently. The tinged skin of his cheeks and forehead from the Colonel's punches was fading. Sam took a moment to look around. They had exited the forest and about one hundred and fifty feet to her right was the edge of a cliff. The terrain was grassy and only featured an old, dead tree whose bark had long been stripped, away showing only smooth, dark wood. Otherwise the scenery was bare.

The sun was rising in the sky and a bright light beyond the edge of the cliff summoned her. The smell of salt and sand invaded her nostrils. She stepped away from Zacabi and walked until she stood a few feet from the cliff.

She could see the ocean.

It was calm and blue and so beautiful.

And for some awful, unknown reason, Sam felt on the verge of tears again. A cool hand touched her shoulder; she turned to look at Zacabi. Now she had the freedom to look at him, she catalogued his features. He was a lot younger than she first thought. Late teens, maybe very early twenties. His eyes were a brilliant sapphire and his long sandy hair whipped in the breeze. He was a little lanky, but she could tell he was packing a notable amount of muscle beneath his white linen clothes. And he was tall, very tall. She wasn't a short woman and he had a good three inches on her. He could have been her younger brother, or even a son.

"Are you alright?" He asked in a gravelly voice, his gaze washing over every part of her in concern.

Sam nodded and sniffed, lowering her head to regain the last of her composure. She was upset and confused, and at this stage she considered giving up hope of escape or rescue.

"I'll look after you."

He said it like it was a pledge and the look in his eyes made it difficult to argue with him. Sam had to shake her head dismissively.

"I'm fine. I can take care of myself."

"You are 'Major'?" he dipped his head, his eyes now inquisitive. Sam reconsidered her refusal. Despite his apparent age - which among alien races meant nothing - he held significant influence over the other residents of Syracuse. Whether they acknowledged him or not, he ate first, was involved in the metal bands and frequently stayed in the company of Xerus. Though never when Jack was around, she now realised.

He _could_ be a better source of information than Xerus.

"Yes. That's my title on my homeworld. You can call me..." She was prepared to say her given name, but chose against it. "...Carter."

"Carter," He repeated quietly. Not quite in a reverent way, but admirably. He nodded. "You can stay with me." Zacabi looked out to the ocean, then back to her. "Come walk with me. I'll take you down to the shore."

Zacabi took a step away from the cliff and looked back to Sam, clearly hoping she would follow him. She could see the opening of the trail that lead down to the shore. Perhaps she could find the place where she and Jack had been captured; from there she could back-track to the Stargate. She had yet to see these traders Merrit had mentioned, despite the arrival and disappearances of the inmates during their tenure. But there must be a Gate nearby and if anybody knew where it was, it would be Zacabi. Or Xerus, but Sam was definitely not on speaking terms with her.

"Alright," She acquiesced and followed close behind him as he led her down the path.

~ SJ ~

Jack was still spitting blood out inside Xerus' room long after Sam had left with Zacabi. He should have felt glad his plan had worked, but he hated that it had to go down this way. Carter was gone, presumably feeling quite betrayed. That was fine. Queen to E four. Right under the protection of the Knight. She just didn't know Jack had changed sides.

He groaned and lowered his head, resting his brow on his knee. He hated the look on her face. The fact that she hit him. Sure, he deserved it. And it was a good whack too.

But at least in winning, Jack had gained a lot of ground as far as the rest of the residents were concerned. Zacabi was - for whatever reason - the unquestioned alpha male of Syracuse. It was baffling, that such a young kid could be at the top of the food chain. Now he had Carter out of his hair, he could get closer to Xerus.

~ SJ ~

Zacabi was good to his word; they'd followed a grassy track down a steep hill and emerged on the sandy shoreline, which, to Sam's dismay, she did not recognise. But the sounds and the gentle rhythm of the encroaching and retreating waves were calming. It didn't feel like any ocean or sea on Earth, it felt mysterious and a little unpredictable. As they walked along the shore, the water tickled her toes and all the earlier resentment and rage was pulled away with the tide.

Zacabi was silent, but she felt like his eyes were always on her.

"How long have you been here?" She asked, watching the small wave crawl around her feet and disappear into the sand.

"A long time."

Well that didn't tell her much, did it?

"Were you brought here from somewhere else?" Sam pressed on, lifting the hems of her pants from the water by pulling at the material on her thighs.

"No. I have always been here. Long before Syracuse was built."

This slowed Sam's paces, "How old are you, then? Because you must have an incredible lifespan..."

Zacabi grinned, revealing a set of pearly white teeth. He cast his eyes out again. "I can't really say. Give and take, Sam. How old are you?" his manner became cheeky and Sam figured she wasn't going to get a straight answer out of him. _Yet_. She would learn more. She'd attack this like any other problem. Observation, analysis, experimentation and application. Not necessarily in that order.

They walked on in silence. A plan was slowly forming in her head. Most of it contingent on whatever information she could drag out of Zacabi. She had to get the bands off. She was free to wander during the day, but any escape would be too dangerous if they still wore them. If Zacabi was the one administering the bands to the residents, surely he knew how they worked and how to remove them. She would have to take up this mission alone because Lord know Jack was certainly not going to be helping her any time soon.

Bastard.

~ SJ ~

**Okay, I'm going to bed. 0530 is coming around mighty early. Thank you daylight savings. Not! (we put our clocks an hour forward two nights ago, so I my body still thinks it's 0430, when it's 0530. EVILNESS!) Reviews? Oh yes please :) I'll be replying to them from now on, (unless you don't have an account, cos then I can't unless you leave an email address.)**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/ramble: I think I need to cut back on some of my non-writing activities. In my defence, I'm plotting out the next two stories and building a longer oneshot called 'Ramesses' for you. Warning, vague elements of Sam/other in this (nothing stupidly dramatic), but a S/J reunion at the end. And some answers. Please: Enjoy!**

**~ 8 ~**

Another day and another. They were starting to blend together like mud in Sam's mind. They dragged on without excitement. She prepared food every day and slept alone in her room at night, often cold and trying not to miss the warmth she no longer had. She dreaded the moments when she would see the Colonel in courtyard, but these moments were often interrupted by Zacabi. He always seemed to find her when she fell into a lull. She would sit against the hot sandstone walls and sink deeply into thought about her shattered relationship with her Commanding Officer. She tried to only think of him as that, rather than as a friend. Their job was the only connection they had now.

She hated the fact she couldn't understand his behaviour. Sam had thought through every possibility, every variable, every conceivable motive or plan the Colonel may have had.

This frustrated her to no end. It was the only intellectual stimulation she could amuse herself with and Sam honestly feared for her mental health.

"You are troubled," a voice addressed Sam as she sat against the wall by her room, as she did on most days.

It wasn't a question anymore. She appreciated Zacabi's attempted to cheer her up; sometimes his strange alien offerings pulled her attention from her dilemma. He reminded her of some kind of guard dog. Whenever he was near, she felt untouchable. The man truly was the bullgoose loony in this madhouse. It had taken a week or two of carefully observing her 'guardian' to work that out. How long had they been here? It felt like more than a month now.

Sam kept her eyes closed and rubbed her eyebrow. Of course she was troubled. She sighed and rolled her head to the side. God, she was exhausted, though she couldn't say why.

"You're surprised?" she countered, forcing heavy eyelids open.

Zacabi regarded her from above. He was so young. Tall, too. He had an old soul, one full of unspoken wisdom and moulded from an unusually long lifetime of experiences. In truth - or what she suspected was truth - he was only young in appearance. Getting information from him was like pulling teeth, but Sam couldn't help but wonder how old he was.

As she sat there, slowly baking in the sun, she realised how fortunate he was. Physically speaking. Though his hair sat on his shoulders, it was never tangled or frizzy. He looked like he belonged on the beach with a surfboard. And those eyes...

"No." He shook his head, a few curled strands falling off the shoulders. "Do you need something?"

"I need to go home. I need my CO." It felt like a confession. Strangely, it felt good to tell him this, like a weight had been lifted off her chest.

Zacabi sighed loudly and sank to the ground, crossing his legs.

"You cannot." He leaned forwards, edging her personal space. That was another thing about him. He interpreted her body language and expression well, but always seemed to hover just beyond intimacy.

"So you keep reminding me," Sam groaned monotonously, her eyes drifting to the gates. The men should be back soon. "I'll be fine."

"So you keep reminding me," Zacabi repeated, using her very tone to mock her. She smiled and returned her eyes to him again.

"What's with the fire theme around here?" she asked without thinking. She'd asked herself this before, but only now thought to ask Zacabi. She jutted her chin to the burning statue. "The effigy, the bands that burn people... what's up with that?"

This actually invoked an unexpected response from Zacabi. He frowned in surprise - something he was yet to do - and glanced over his shoulder to the stone bust. He turned back, his features now schooled to their calm default.

"This was built in honour of the Gods." Zacabi flipped a hand to their surroundings. "It is a monument to Syracuse. He was defeated in battle with Sabar, the God of fire and condemned to burn. We pay tribute to the battle and Sabar's victory with this place."

Sam was paying attention, but not to the brief explanation. For the first time in what seemed like far too long, her mind was ticking over in thought and analysis.

The tapping of fingers on the knee. The _almost _unperceivable glance to the right. The way his voice deepened and the slight repetition in his explanation.

_He was lying._

Instead, Sam turned her focus to what he'd said.

"'We'?"

Another well aimed question. Zacabi closed his mouth and glared at her a little. He didn't seem angry, but Sam knew she was finally on the right track to getting answers.

"Whoever built this place. My mistake," he corrected himself. Sam might have believed him if she hadn't detected his subtle deception. That, and Zacabi didn't make mistakes, as far as she could tell.

They were both distracted by the loud arrival of the men. Sam tilted her head to the side to look past Zacabi, who turned his head to witness the commotion.

The Colonel was at the front of the group, as he was every time since the fight. Normally he was shamelessly jovial with the other men. He'd laugh loudly and slap their shoulder like they were friends, almost as if to spite her. It always irritated Sam.

Today, he was the most sedate of the group. The rest of the men passed him as he slowed, all carrying on and talking with more animation than seemed appropriate for prisoners. Jack was hung back for a few seconds, looking at one of the higher levels of the colosseum. It was second nature for Sam to follow his lead, despite their falling out and she too looked up. She wasn't sure which of the old wooden doors he was looking at, but there was one in his line of sight that she now noticed had some kind of primitive lock on it.

Of all the times for the Colonel to know something she didn't. To rug salt on the wound, Sam cast her eyes towards the Colonel again to find him smiling. Bloody Xerus again. She hated the way the Colonel looked genuinely pleased to see the cherry-headed woman. Give the alien the same look he once gave his loyal second in command.

Now, it just hurt Sam.

Again, Zacabi exercised his keen observation skills and grabbed her elbow.

"Come. Walk with me." He rose to his feet, his hand still on Sam's arm. She was inclined to go with him, but felt far too tired to do anything more than sit.

"Zacabi, I don't-"

"I insist," he cut in, giving her elbow a gentle tug. Sam felt too defeated to argue. She only had a second to glance back to the Colonel in a painful longing, which soon turned to fury when she saw him pull Xerus into an affectionate embrace.

Upon impulse, Sam reached out and grabbed Zacabi's hand and allowed him to lead her out of the colosseum. They still had an hour or two before sunset, but she didn't want to spend it here.

~ SJ ~

By the time they returned from the beach, the sun was on the verge of setting. Sam didn't let go of Zacabi's hand as soon as they had left the Colosseum, but held it until they arrived at the golden shore. She needed to ground herself. They had walked in silence the entire trip, which only served to allow Sam's mood to darken.

It rarely happened, but she honestly felt depressed. All indications seemed to suggest the Colonel had truly disowned her; she was a prisoner, possibly on another planet, though she couldn't be sure. The sea looked similar, but the lack of rescue created dangerous doubts.

By the time she entered her room, she was sniffing back tears. She wanted to break down and cry, but her own standard of self-discipline prohibited it. She was a soldier, damn it! She's killed people. Blown up a sun and is a name to be feared among the Goa'uld as a part of SG-1. She shouldn't cry because she was alone. Because, yes, she was a little afraid.

The shield rose in the doorway behind her and Sam let out a deep breath. She was tired. She should have been hungry, but her appetite was long gone.

"You need rest," Zacabi startled her, causing Sam to jump almost clear of the grainy floor. She rounded on him, clearly surprised. He was correct, but she was shocked by his presence.

"Why are you here?" He had his own place to sleep. Surely he didn't expect to stay here? They didn't exactly have a choice now, did they?

She looked up and in the fading light, she found him very close.

"You are in pain." Sam shifted in discomfort. "I will stay until you fall asleep. Tell me what is wrong, I will listen."

Sam hung her head and sniffled. She was over this. She was compelled to do as he requested by a powerful desire that she couldn't identify.

"I want to go home. Or at the very least, I want my friend back." She lifted her head again. "Something is wrong with the Colonel and I can't get close enough to fix it."

A tear nearly fell and Sam swiped at it. "I'm afraid of being sold off as breeding stock or the Colonel to be bought to fight in some dangerous battle. I hate the way I still feel loyal to him. He looks so hateful when we go near each other. He's only spoken to me once, and he didn't seem like the Colonel I know."

She also hated how weak her voice became on her final confession.

"Tell him to leave you alone. Not to talk to you. You can make him stay away from you." Zacabi shrugged as if the answer was simple.

"I can't. He's my boss." Sam shook her head, lowering her chin to hide the tear that dislodged from her lashes. Her breath shuddered when she felt cool hands touch her cheeks, stilling the motion of her head. He carefully lifted her face to look him in the eye.

"Try it. You are stronger than he is." Zacabi's voiced was smooth and gentle. There was a smile in his eyes that didn't grace his lips. The man was like a Vulcan sometimes. "He will do as you command."

Sam doubted the Colonel would be taking orders from her anytime soon. Hence, she couldn't keep in the disbelieving chuckle.

"Does he listen to you?" Sam asked, her face still in his hands. She wished she could regulate her body temperature like Zacabi could. His body was always cool, even on the hotter days.

"Enough questions. You will go to sleep now."

As soon as he said, the words, Sam felt the energy begin to drain from her body. What was it with this guy and his power of suggestion? Sam had to agree; they had spoken enough. Really, she was grateful for the company. The nights alone were starting to depress her.

Sam stood up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. Zacabi froze, his hands pulling back to only the fingertips on her face. Sam pulled back, suddenly feeling sheepish. Zacabi appeared unperturbed by the spontaneous gesture and the gentle caress of his cold fingertips over her face assured Sam her actions would not insight reprimand.

She was very tired now and quickly dismissed her behaviour. She wasn't thinking straight.

"Lie down," Zacabi prompted, a hand pulling on her arm. They descended to the floor and Sam didn't think twice about allowing Zacabi to curl up behind her. His body enveloped her like sun-warmed water and the last thing she remembered was the feeling of cool fingers pushing hair behind her ear and caressing her jaw... And wishing it was Jack who was tenderly rocking her to sleep.

~ SJ ~

By the end of the next day, Sam was ready to collapse. Something had to be wrong with her, aside from the suspension of her usual bodily functions that the bands appeared to incite. While it was nice not having to deal with her monthly friend and her legs were still as silky smooth as they were upon their arrival, she worried about her rarely felt appetite and failure to need to go to the bathroom.

Zacabi was nowhere to be found, which was unusual.

Sam grabbed the arch of the doorway, a hand pressed to her forehead. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. A baby headache was forming at the back of her head. It was there, she could feel it.

She had to get inside before the shield rose.

She was sure her heart skipped a beat when a hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her over the threshold. At first she didn't recognise the man that pushed her against the wall, a large calloused hand covering her mouth. Her shriek of surprise was muffled by his hand and the scent of his skin was powerfully familiar. Sam lifted her hands to his chest to push him away when she realised who had her trapped in her room. The shield rose and the glow lit up Jack's face.

What the hell was he doing?

Jack lifted a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. His eyes darted over her face, analysing her condition. She tried to glare at him, but it was probably lost to the tire in her eyes. Jack lifted his hand, allowing it to hover over her mouth, lest she protest too loudly.

"Get off me, _Colonel_..." Sam growled, not even trying to his her anger. She was staggered when he quickly complied, taking a step back. Again, she was surprised he gave her the time to catch her breath. Great, stuck in her room with an uninvited guest again. She _really _needed to do something about that.

Her stomach lurched at the thought of spending the night alone with the Colonel, given the distance he'd so vehemently maintained over the past weeks.

"What do you want, Sir?" Old habits die hard; they really do.

Jack wrongly took this as an invitation to step closer, "Carter, I'm-"

"Stop." Sam held up a hand over his chest, causing Jack to halt abruptly. "Just... Stay _there_." When he lowered his imploring hands and planted his feet on the ground, she permitted him to continue. "Talk."

Jack gave her a once-over. "How you holding up?"

Sam could only grimace. How did he think she was holding up? 'Obviously not as well as he was,' she thought bitterly.

"Having a blast. Why are you here?" Her sarcasm wasn't lost on him, but he seemed to take it in stride.

"I think I've found a way out."

"What?" Sam frowned and folded her arms.

Jack rubbed a hand over his chin. "Look, I'm sorry. I couldn't tell you what was going on and I didn't like hurting you. I had to make sure Xerus believed I actually hated you to gain her trust."

Sam was quickly becoming confused and held up her hands, effectively silencing him. "Wait! Slow down." The pounding in her head increased. "Why couldn't you tell me?"

"Xerus can like... sense emotions. What those people on Star Trek called?"

"Empath?"

"Maybe. I'm telling you, Carter, she was _right _on the money. Every time. She knew I wanted out, but she picked up on our..." he trailed of as his hand waved back and forth between them.

"Our thing?"

Now it was Jack's turn to grimace in discomfort. "That. And I don't think she was willing to risk letting two people out. "

The thing they never spoke of. The feelings that they pretended didn't exist but sat between them when they shared a glance like a purple elephant. _That _thing.

"Oh..." Sam nodded, casting her eyes down. "But you could have told me."

"No, I couldn't. I needed you to legitimately hate me. I had to make myself angry whenever she brought you up so she wouldn't figure out I was lying. All those things you do that annoy me..." He touched his cheek absently. "...Like punching me. Good hit, by the way."

Sam felt the tension between them lift a little.

"You know, like the techno-babble thing you do." He opened and closed his hand in a talking motion. "Drives me nuts sometimes. I didn't want her near you, so I thought if you were actually pissed with me, you'd steer clear of us. She reckons she could feel you from a mile away." He waved an arm towards the door.

"So you think you've found a way out?" Sam slid past him and walked to the other side of the room. Jack stayed but turned to face her.

"There's a room on the top level," Jack pointed to the ceiling, "I think it's where they put the bands on. If we can get 'em off, we can do a runner."

"You realise that we'd have to do it soon. I mean, I'm still angry enough with you to hold us over for a week..." Sam shook her head and sighed loudly.

Jack's hands twitched by his sides. Sam caught the movement from the corner of eye.

"What?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Don't 'spose you can let me go?" Jack asked, pointing a finger to the ground.

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't worked it out?" Jack appeared taken aback. "Remember what Merrit said about the pecking order and what happens when you win a fight?"

"Colonel, I don't und-" Sam began and then suddenly clicked.

_The men have their own order. You must fight and win. Until blood stains the sand._

"But I thought that was only for the men? To establish their rank structure."

Jack shrugged. "That's what I thought. That's why I went for Blondie."

"Zacabi."

"Whatever. In case you've forgotten Carter, you were the one who had me bleeding all over the place. Not him. Although, he is still following my order, so I dunno how it worked in the end..."

_Zacabi's face was covered in bruises, but he didn't bleed as heavily as the Colonel. Jack lifted Zacabi by the collar and whispered something to the man, blood dripping onto Zacabi's shirt. Whatever Jack said, it brought a small smile and a nod to Zacabi._

"You ordered him to protect me. That's why he won't leave me alone." Sam conjectured. Jack tilted his head in a more-or-less manner.

So maybe the Colonel was still her caring Commanding Officer he'd always been. Well, _somewhat_caring.

"So ah... how about letting me move around a bit?"

"Oh... um, yeah. You're free." Jack let out an exaggerated groan in relief and walked around the room, stretching his legs. "So you have to do as I say?" That had possibilities.

Then again, it explained her willingness to follow Zacabi's commands.

"Don't let it go to your head. I'd hate to start a fight with you, Carter. It might be the bands or something."

"Maybe. Zacabi doesn't have one." Sam rebutted, completely missing Jack's shocked expression for a few moments.

She'd discovered that this morning, when she'd woken up and rolled over. She intended to push Zacabi onto his back, but found him quite awake and when she pressed a hand on his waist, realised he was band free.

"I thought Xerus was the only one."

"You didn't notice while you two were trying to beat each other?"

"I was distracted!" Jack growled in his best Colonel voice. Sam however, ignored him.

"So they might not be prisoners..." That headache was re-emerging again. Sam scrunched up her nose and pressed her fingertips to her temples.

"You alright?" The colonel asked, now concerned.

"Headache." Sam gave him bluntly.

"Anything I can do?"

Sam considered his offer and decided to give into impulse. "Yeah. Come here."

Jack obeyed, though she knew he would have without the order. When he was near enough, Sam slid her hands under his arms and wrapped them around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. Jack didn't argue and flattened his hands on her lower back.

"Did I mention I was sorry?" He added with a weak chuckle. Sam nodded and was glad to feel the pounding in her head ease a bit. "Tomorrow, we'll get the leashes off and get outta here. Alright?"

Sam nodded again, letting herself sink into his embrace. She missed him. Even though she shouldn't, she truly had.

~ SJ ~

**Go little plot ball, go! She's starting to roll nicely :) This is a day late because we had a storm and my house lost power for about 18 hours. I had to eat all the icypoles (popsicles?) in the freezer. Such a hardship. Feedback always welcome. Peace.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/Ramble: I admit to going against my beta's advice and posting without the next chapter. I just wanted to update this. She may verbally beat me later. Yes, I'll be writing the next chapter of this and MYOTOS tonight. **

~ 9 ~

Sam drew deep circles over her temple with her index fingers. "Hurry up..."

"Easy Carter," Jack grunted, adjusting his position behind her. Her headache had faded to little more than a steady ache; nothing too painful.

They'd been awake for hours and since first light, the wait for sunrise was dragging. Sam slapped her cheeks and let her chin rest in the cup of her hands. She was sitting on the floor at the doorway with Jack standing behind her right shoulder, a hand on his hip and the other supporting him against the archway.

They had gone over the plan several times since last night, though it was still sketchy.

Jack had seen a doorway outside the colosseum which led to a staircase. He never had the chance to investigate it, but since there were no visible stairways that led to the upper level inside the large structure, it was presumed they had to access them from the other side. They would slip out through the main gates during the mass exodus of rooms and sneak around to wait until the men left for the fields and the women went inside to work.

That's as far as they'd gotten.

"If Xerus knows a way out, why hasn't she left?" Sam wondered aloud.

"She's got a living here. Food, accommodation... minions."

"Minions?" Sam looked up, meeting his gaze. God, she'd missed that over the last few weeks.

"She actually means something here; people respect her. To her, this is home." Jack looked up to scan the empty courtyard before returning his attention to Sam. "She's plain old institutionalised. She relies on this place," he lifted a shoulder.

"Then why hasn't she been sold off?"

"Probably got her fingers in the right pies." Sam nodded slightly and tapped the back of her finger against shield. It crackled and shone. Yep, still there. "So that's what you did with that," Jack pondered.

"What, Sir?" Jack brushed the sand off his hand and knelt down on one knee beside her. He reached out and pulled the hem of her pants up, exposing her ankle. Hanging from a piece of brown twine she'd taken from the kitchens, was the button Jack had found in the fields. Sam had forgotten it was there.

"Oh... Yeah." What else could she say? That she'd kept it for its sentimental value? She had, but she wasn't going to tell Jack that any time soon.

Luckily she didn't have to answer because the shield in the doorway mercifully dropped before them. Jack half crawled backwards and away from the arch.

"You go first. Meet you at the Gate in two minutes. I'll hang back and wait for Xerus to get something to eat."

Right. Last thing they needed was for him to be caught coming out of Sam's room. If Xerus had any sense, she'd have looked to Sam's room first when Jack didn't go to hers last night.

Sam didn't nod but awkwardly - courtesy of that damn metal band around her waist - rose to her feet and stepped out into the courtyard. As she walked around, she searched for Xerus and Zacabi. As the crowd migrated to towards the storeroom that stocked the dried food and water, Sam began to deviate towards the main gates. She wasn't too worried about Zacabi's absence, but Xerus' was a concern.

"Carter!" Jack's distinct bark brought her eyes to him as he waited outside the gate. Did they ever get shut? The prisoners virtually had free reign; it was only the need to eat that kept them to their duties and the need to be in their cells between dusk and dawn. The heavy wooden doors looked very old, so maybe they were used prior to the implementation of the bands.

Jack held out his hand and it seemed second nature to grab it.

"I reckon I saw it on this side." He pulled her to the left, breaking into a trot. It was difficult to see through the small trees and shrubs that hugged the stone, so she eventually relinquished his hand to push some of the low branches away. A strong gust of wind whipped around them, making the going just that bit more difficult. She was sure they'd gone about a third of the way around the Colosseum, but an opening in the sandy stone revealed a staircase leading back into the construction. It was dark inside but they quickly began to climb.

The steps were covered in sand and leaf litter, obviously rarely used. The stairs turned to the right and continued up into a long, slightly curved corridor. It was almost pitch black except for a few faint slivers of light that revealed the dirty, gritty stone floor.

They stood still in the dark, listening for any sounds. Strangely, they found near perfect. Sam expected to hear at least the loud chatter of the inmates as they ate breakfast, or even the wind that had been whipping around outside. The walls must hold the sound well.

"Tread carefully," she warned him quietly. The ruffle of his clothing suggested he'd turned to her, probably with a look she'd have found amusing. His hand smacked her in the arm and then grabbed her forearm.

"Come on Major."

Jack began taking slow, calculated steps forward. Sam kept her hand on the wall, the rough surface sanding away at her fingertips. A couple of times Jack kicked something along the ground. Often it was a branch or small stone, except something that sounded wooden and hollow, that rolled ahead. Sam didn't want to know. She hoped it was a bowl.

"Ack!" Jack grunted when his foot hit something solid. She could hear his foot slid up the perpendicular surface, then a series of steady taps. "Think we found the next set of stairs. How many floor we gotta go?"

"Ground floor is below us Sir and there are four levels. One more set of stairs after this." Sam pushed him towards the wall and took her place behind him. His hand slipped lower and gently braced her wrist.

"Let's keep going."

~ SJ ~

After more than an hour of carefully navigating the dark hallways and climbing stairs, they found the top level. Unfortunately, it was as dark as the other levels.

"Try some of the doors. Some of them should lead out." Jack let her go and walked ahead, coming to the first door on their left. She could see his feet in the light under the door. His hands touched the door and grazed the rough wood. The door creaked as he gave it a push.

"Carter, get over here."

She was there in a heartbeat, her side flush with Jack's as they pushed on the door. It gave a little and after a few hard shoves, the door broke open. Jack grabbed the door before it swung open and hit the wall. The room was empty, but a small opening in the wall filled the room with morning light.

"Better leave it open so we can see." Jack muttered as he turned to walk away. Sam however, stepped into the room and approached the window space. "Carter!"

"There's no one out there, Sir," Sam frowned, looked out over the courtyard. The men would have been long gone by now, but there was always a few women out in the yard. From what Sam could see, it was eerily deserted. Even the footprints in the sand looked softened by the wind which had died away. The place looked like it had never been in habited.

She winced when Jack's voice broke the silence, close to her ear. "Come on."

With the light from the open door filling the corridor, Sam could now see the floor and more importantly, the array of debris covering it. Still a lot of leaves and sticks, but also degraded pieces of cloth, broken bowls and shards of wood, and occasionally the remains of a small animal. Jack walked ahead, pushing each door they passed; sometimes one would open, illuminating the corridor. Other doors did not have any light beneath them and those were the ones that would not open, even with their combined efforts. Sam had to wonder if those rooms actually contained something. Again, she didn't want to know. This place had been a prison slash temple for a long time after all.

"Oi," he halted her with the back of his hand on her stomach, "what do you reckon?"

A large archway ahead appeared ahead. Sam looked to her Commanding Officer, his face cloaked by shadows and shrugged. When they drew closer, they could see a balcony. Excellent.

It seemed pointless to look out into the courtyard again, but there was something off. While they crept along the balcony towards the only locked door in the entire colosseum, Sam stared at the scene below. The sand seemed smoother and the effigy strangely dormant.

That was it.

"Sir, the statue..." her insistent tug on the back of his shirt brought Jack's attention to the burning man. Well, he wasn't actually burning none, hence Sam's concern.

"What the hell..." Jack grumbled, now taking more interest in her observation. Understanding they didn't have time, Jack continued. Sam followed him, but only after one last glance over the lip of the stone railing. They came to the door and exchanged a look of controlled dread.

"Well that's promising."

"You can say that again, Sir."

"It's promising," Jack repeated, earning a patronising glare from his Second in Command. The actual lock was a generic bolting mechanism; the panel above the lock was not only much more advanced than anything they'd seen on this planet, but it clearly Ancient in design. Not necessarily a bad thing.

"Sir, maybe you could try waving your hand over it."

Jack swept his hand over the panel. He'd prefer to thing he was exercising his ability to take suggestions from his subordinate, rather than following her order. It wasn't like he had a choice anyway.

_'Open'_

It seemed almost ridiculous that the bolt did _actually_ slide open. That was _way_ too easy.

Considering the locking mechanism, they expected the contents of the room to be a lot more sophisticated than what they found. The centre of the room was taken by a large, grey stone block bearing black stains that Sam didn't want to assume was blood. The walls were lined with shelves, all holding small wooden boxes and dusty bottles. The far side of the room had stone shelves imbedded in the grainy wall. Sam rose to her feet and entered the room, Jack close behind her.

The embedded shelves held probably two dozen of the metal bands, flexing slightly as they overlapped each other in rows. On the highest shelf however, was something quite out of place.

Several stone cubes, much darken than any other stone in the room, sat next to what Sam identified as a broken sword. The Colonel must have seen the weapon above and stepped forwards to grab it. He had to climb up two of the shelves to reach it.

His hand closed on the thick handle and he pulled it off the shelf.

"Agh!" The sword jumped from his hand suddenly, falling to the ground with a very loud clatter. Jack's hand shook and he pulled it into his chest.

"Sir! What's wrong?" Sam ignored the sword as she approached Jack.

"Damn thing burned me! That's what!" He snapped, turning to the wall with a groan of pain. It burned him? Get to that later.

"Come down and let me take a look at it, Sir."

Jack gave her a scowl before he dutifully climbed down and pulled his hand from his chest. Damn her and damn these stupid bands. And really damn her for hitting him and spilling his blood.

The engraved pattern on the handle of the sword was burned into his skin, dotted with some slowly growing blisters. The palm was smoothed and hot. That was going to hurt later. Sam looked at the bottles lining the wall, hoping one of them was water.

"Doesn't matter," He pulled his hand back, shaking his head, "We'll sort it out later. Let's just try and get these damn corsets off."

"There has to be some kind of device in here that controls them. Or at least something that will help us take them off. Let's check out the-"

Muffled yelling and heavy footsteps outside instantly silenced the officers. Jack's burnt hand grabbed hers and he pulled her towards the door and then yanked her to the right. He pulled her along the balcony, his hand probably the only thing keeping her upright as they sprinted to the stairs. They skidded to a halt when a barricade of men in white appeared ahead. Sam turned back and found a similar sight behind them. How the hell did they get there?

Neither Officer recognised the men, but Sam would put money on these men being the ones that captured them in the first place. The Colonel's grip on her hand tightened. Sam may not have recognised the men approaching them, but she clearly remembered the harpoon weapon in their hands. She really did not want to go through that again.

"Carter..." by his tone, he was asking for a way out, as if she knew one. Sam considered jumping. It was high and they'd probably break a few bones in the process, but the sand was reasonably soft. No, it was too far down. The powerful clenching of Jack's hand made her grind her teeth in pain.

The men in front of them segregated and stood against the wall and stone railing to make room for an unarmed man, their weapons still trained on her and Jack. The guards were careful to not touch the sandy-haired man as he approached.

"Took you long enough," Zacabi smirked, his hair whipping in the salty breeze. "Take them."

And again with the harpoons. Flesh tore from the bone and her cry of agony mixed with Jack's like a twisted cocktail.

~ SJ ~

**Funnily enough, it actually gets shippier after this. And angstier. And no, it's not so clichéd and obvious as even I would think this looks... oh, that was terrible English. *flicks muse's ear***


	10. Chapter 10

**A/Ramble: No, I'm not holding chapters hostage for reviews (for those starting - or already do - think that) Real Life gets in the way. Sorry if that sounded snappy, I'm frustrated with my own lack of free time. Kind and wholehearted thanks to those who leave feedback; I really do appreciate the time :) Please Enjoy!**

~ 10 ~

"Mother..." Sam groaned as she slowly woke; every part of her body ached, especially the parts pressed into the cold, rough ground. Her eyes blurred with orange light heralding the sunrise and found she absolutely loathed the sight. The world cleared and she made out the distinct shape of Jack laying a few metres away, just outside her cell.

_Outside_. He was outside.

"Colonel!" She was on her hands and knees instantly, grazing her palms on the floor as she scurried towards him. He was beyond the shield, on his side and facing away from her. Sam looked up at the archway, her breath quickening and her heart already racing. Her fingertips connected sharply against the shield when she instinctively reached for him, a needle-sharp sting resonating in her back. "Damn." She felt the tendrils of panic grip her and in spite of the discomfort she knew it would cause, pounded a fist against the invisible wall. "Damnit, Colonel! Wake up!"

Again, a jagged pain rippled along her spine, but she ignored it.

"Sir!" Her breath hitched when he moved, a twitch of muscles and a push of sand around him. "Yes... YES!"

Jack covered his face with a hand and rolled onto his stomach. Sam wanted to smack her hand on the floor to attract his attention. _Look at me. You're outside. _As he pulled his legs up and pushed up onto his knees with his forearms still in the sand, his shirt fell towards his chest, revealing nothing but tanned skin. His band was gone. He grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck, which she now noticed was an enflamed, almost infected-looking red.

He blindly reached for the wall beside his head and hope rose in her chest that he may be able to pass through the shield; that hope was quickly squandered when his hand missed the arch of the door and collided with the shield. It crackled and buzzed, but he showed no pain.

At that, she smacked her hand against his. A string of insults paraded through her mind until he looked at her. For all their ability to convey a volume of words through one look, Jack was slow on the uptake today. He squinted at her and rubbed sand out of his eye with the knuckle of his index finger. She waited for him to look around and get his bearings; she pulled at the hem of her own shirt and then pointed to his. Jack mirrored the action and ran a hand over his stomach. He should have felt the absence of heavy metal constricting him already.

The sun wasn't far from rising and it occurred to Sam that Jack could leave. He was no longer bound to this place. Jack must have known this, too, but despite her frenzied pointing towards the main gate and unmistakable mouthing of the word ''Go!'', he stubbornly shook his head. It was an order... And he wasn't complying. No band. Great; she hadn't even had the chance to play on the shift in power the bands had given her.

Jack was sitting on his knees like a loyal dog as she tried to make him leave.

''Carter, I'm not going anywhere.''

How could she so easily forget that sound _does_penetrate force fields? Haven't they seen that before?

''Sir! Just-''

Oh.

The almost unperceivable nod of his head, confirming the profound feeling of Déjà Vu she now felt, did more to assure Sam of the unwavering strength of his feelings for her than anything they'd shared on this planet so far.

He didn't leave her last time. He wouldn't leave her now. She still loved and hated him for that.

She couldn't look at him. It was too much. Too raw. She could only see her fingers scraping back and forth along the sandpaper floor. The part of herself she rarely acknowledged made her blindly lift a hand to the shield; just close enough to rest the sharp edges of her nails against it. The band warned her of her proximity with a sharp ache, but she'd endured enough emotional strain from their situation that physical pain felt almost surreal and easy to ignore.

A gasp.

The shield between them fell and when she expected to be left clutching at air, her hand met warm flesh. She relished the forbidden feel of his fingers moulding with hers.

''I..." She heard his wavering intake of breath, felt the exhale. He tried again; ''I'm not leaving you this time either.''

That broke her. This place could take a lot from her, but he could break down the walls better than anything else. She tried to tuck her chin into her chest and silent tears brimmed her lashes; hide the shame of revealing her weakness. Her own emotions for him, she could administrate. When he acted upon his for her, it crashed through the barriers like a sledgehammer through glass.

''Come here,'' he implored as she fell into his arms and clung to his neck. It was a vicious cycle: he was her armour and Achilles' heel.

The irony of it.

''We get out of here together or not at all. Alright?''

It was the new status quo, and she nodded in passive agreement. Jack allowed the weight of the moment take hold and closed his eyes.

_He was back in that room when he woke up, shelves covering almost all parts of the walls, bowing under the weight of boxes, bottles and the oddly-placed knick-knack. The world didn't make sense to him, it titled and blurred and whoever was walking around him was moving fast, slow, then doubling._

_Jack was flat on his stomach, his neck aching at the awkward angle against the cool stone. He guessed he was lying on the altar in the middle of that room._

_What had happened?_

_It was there, he just couldn't grasp it. Couldn't sequence the events. Falling off the balcony? No. That was an idea, not a memory. Holding Carter's hand and running from the men... Zacabi.  
><em>

The memory came and went within a second, like he was recalling a small part of a dream. No matter how he tried to get a better grasp on the image, it continued to elude him. Jack gently shook his head, ignoring it for now. He turned his head into Sam's hair - just a little - until his nose brushed the soft locks.

"We'll be fine Carter." He lightly patted the back of her head, almost as a signal to break the embrace. Sam pulled back with a determined nod of her head and a quiet sniff.

"Sir... You should leave. I'll be fine here. You can find the Gate, get help and come back for me."

"Carter..."

"We've been here for weeks, so even if it takes you a few days to even find the Stargate-"

"Carter!"

Sam had her mouth open and the next word hanging from her lips, but said nothing.

"I'm not gonna leave you here. With my luck I'd leave and you'd be sent to God knows where. We're better off sticking together. Come on, Carter, even you know that."

Sam grimaced and dropped her head. "Sir, really-"

"Colonel?" Merrit's familiar, timid voice interrupted them from behind Jack; they turned, still grasping each other's arms. The look on her face was pure sympathy and disappointment.

"Merrit..." Sam replied, eyeing the pile of folded linen in the Nox's arms. "What is it?"

"You will need these." Merrit held out the stack - Sam now guessed was three or four sets of clothes - which Jack twisted around to receive.

"What for?"

Absolute pity shrouded the younger woman's features. "You tried to escape. You will ruin your clothes during the last days."

"Last days?" Sam looked wearily between Merrit and Jack. This is not what she needed to hear.

"You will feel the effects of the sword of Syracuse later. Tonight, it will be like a fever. I don't know how many days you've been given, but the fires will burn hotter until the last day. Then you will die." She briefly closed her eyes, driving away an unwanted emotion, "You are not expected in the fields from now on." Merrit turned her eyes to Sam, "I don't think anyone will care if you perform your duties or not for the duration of his punishment."

Knowing the Colonel as well as she did, Sam expected some kind of smart response. There was none. In fact, the Colonel looked morosely contemplative. He only nodded and spent a long time watching Merrit disappear into the morning gathering for breakfast. Sam spent just as much watching him.

"Colonel..." No response. "...Jack?" This had his attention. "We should use this time to find the Gate."

"Carter-"

"No, we'll come back at night. _I_have to. But at least if we aren't here we won't get shipped off somewhere."

"I got a better idea. Let's do nothing today."

Was he insane? They don't know how long he has left. They need to explore, perform reconnaissance or try to escape this horrible place. Find Zacabi. So he could fix this.

Her exasperation was enough to make the Colonel change his mind before she could protest. He unceremoniously dumped the clothes inside the archway and pulled himself to his feet with a groan. She stared at his offered hand like an unbelievable gift. Maybe this is the nudge they needed.

"They stuck something in the back of my neck. Hurts like a bastard," He scowled as he carefully touched the nape of his neck.

"Let me see."

Jack turned and lowered his head to give her better access to the inflamed cut running down his spine. If she didn't know any better, she'd say he'd been implanted with a Goa'uld symbiote; the fact was she did know better, and the incision was too small. In her curiosity, she reached out a still well-manicured finger to touch the less reddened skin around it. Before she made any contact, Jack smacked his hand over his neck and let out a pained growl.

"Carter!"

"I didn't touch it!" Sam held up her hands while he glared at her. Jack rounded on her, vigorously rubbing his neck.

"You were thinking it," he accused, scowling at her.

That she was, but he couldn't have known that. He couldn't have seen her hand. "I think we should take Merrit's word for gospel, Sir. We need to get you home."

"I know," Jack sighed in resignation, "but we've got time."

"How do you know? You could be a pile of ashes by tomorrow."

Jack looked out the door to escape those blue orbs. "I vaguely remember parts of the procedure. Zacabi said I had eight days."

"Eight days... Colonel, that's not enough time. We need to be back on Earth before then. And I need to get my band off before then. We don't know how they'll react to Gate travel."

"Yeah... Yeah. You're right. Let's head out. You've know the way to the beach?"

Sam was the one who couldn't meet his eye now. Yes, she knew the way. Zacabi had shown her. She nodded and met his commanding gaze. "Yes Sir."

"Lead the way."

~ SJ ~

Despite the strange suspension of their bodily functions and apparent inability to get dirty, Sam was craving a warm bubble bath by the end of the day. Even a cold one; she wasn't going to be picky.

Their clothes were drenched by the Sea spray and she had sand _everywhere_. They were dragging their feet back to the colosseum before sunset, having spent the entire day jogging the length of the beach. It went on for miles and by lunchtime, they had conceded defeat and turned back. Tomorrow they would go in the other direction. After that they'd explore the dense forests and open fields in search of the Gate. They come across stretches of beach that looked like the area they'd been taken from, but initial searches for trails or other familiar landmarks came up empty.

Jack followed her into the room with a large jug of water tipped far back as he drank deeply. She had almost forgotten what Merritt had told them about tonight. All she could think about was that they'd knocked off one day and only had seven left.

"It's hot," Jack panted, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He dropped the ceramic jug to the ground, its hollow thud attracting her attention. He was correct; it was hot, but not that hot. Jack went straight for the jug in the corner of the room they kept there in case they became thirsty during the nights. Sam cut him off with a hand on his forehead.

He was burning up.

Jack closed his eyes and leaned forwards into her hand. "Your hand's cold."

Sam looked at him, head to toe. "Sir, you need to lie down." A glance through the doorway warned her of the imminent sunset. "Hopefully this won't last all night." She pulled him by the elbow to the ground. "Stay here, I'll be right back."

"Where would you go?" Jack laughed weakly. "Bring over that pot of water, Carter. I'm thirsty as hell."

Sam left him to pick up the stack of linen that had been by the doorway all day. A thin layer of sand covered the cloth and Sam had to brush it off. She picked up the half full - or empty, if you'd have asked Jack - jug of water by the lip. Jack took it and began to greedily drink from it, stopping only when he'd nearly finished it and Sam took it from him.

"Lie down." She pushed his forehead down onto the clothes she placed beneath his head.

"Sorry, you need a drink, too. My mouth is so dry." His mouth worked to circulate saliva and he ran a hand over his face. Sam watched him while she drank. "God, I'm boiling here."

"If we're lucky, it'll only last for the duration of the sun setting. Otherwise we're in for some very long nights."

"Some more than others..." Jack muttered bitterly, threading his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. Little droplets flicked onto the ground. "How much longer?"

Sam looked through the doorway and leaned to the side to see the skies behind the colosseum. "It's been about three minutes. I'd say only one more." She touched a hand to his cheek. "How do you feel?"

"Like a potato in the fire." His hand covered hers on his hot cheek. "You have great hands." Sam lifted an eyebrow and Jack turned his head towards her. "Innuendo totally intended. I don't care anymore. If I'm going to die, some things should change."

_Should_. Not 'Need to', but 'should'. She was free to agree or disagree. She had no intention of letting him die and even if they did make it home, some things would change. How could they not? She could see them opening up that locked room again. Maybe they wouldn't do anything about it, but they should decide whether it was worth making plans for. They should actually talk about it.

"Yes, they should."

Jack closed his eyes and smiled in relief.

He let her brush back his hair from his face and felt his fever dwindle. He wasn't willing to break the moment when he'd deduced the sun had set and his punishment was only a short-lived thing. It made him anxious about what he'd feel tomorrow, but that was probably how the punishment worked. He still had seven days. Seven days to try and get home. Seven days to, perhaps, get to know Sam in all the ways he wasn't supposed to.

~ SJ ~

**Me. Shooting. Now. I hate the delays. It's stress-worthy. This required much tweaking. Hope you enjoyed. I'm off to do the next chapter, so minimal delays. MYOTOS **_**will**_** be posted tomorrow. Guaranteed.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/Note: **_**Work, severe illness (Including impending death), poverty, nor incoming meteorite will keep me from Oz Comic-Con... **_**I will walk the 200+ kilometres to Adelaide if I must! Teryl Rothery and Jewel Staite! Aaagh! And kisses! XD Kind thanks to reviewers; you keep me going :)**

~ 11 ~

"Hey, Carter?" Jack moved his foot to the less gravelled part of the track that led down to the beach. They were onto the second day of their dedicated search for the gate - or any form of escape - and preparing to head a few miles down the coast.

"What?" Sam grunted as she slid down a few feet, slowed only by Jack's automatic grab at the back of her shirt. They stopped and Sam took a moment to check her hands for any cuts or grazes. She brushed each slender hand down her shirt and nodded for him to let her go. They continued down the sloped trail until it levelled out onto soft sand.

"When we were up on that top level, was it just me, or did stuff seem out of place on the ground level?" Having quickly established that there were very little rocks and sticks - or sharp articles of any kind - on the beach, they'd taken to running and walking barefoot. Until last night, Jack hadn't associated any of the clichéd notions of the idea of walking with Carter along a beach all day, and he still didn't. They agreed that escape was the priority.

"You mean the sudden lack of people?"

"Yeah. And the statue; it didn't just stop burning..."

"..It looked dry. The whole place looked like that, Sir. There was nothing that made it look inhabited."

Jack turned to her as they walked, instantly seeing the expression he'd long since identified as her 'thinking face'.

"Got any ideas?"

"None I'd be willing to put money on."

"Well, neither of us is stashing any cash, so I think you're safe." Jack nudged her arm with his arm, easily pushing her to the side. She smiled and easily fell back into step with him.

"Have you noticed that nothing seems to have any impact on us?" Jack just gave her a familiar look of confusion. "Like the men that captured us; those wounds _should_ have scarred. And have you noticed that nobody else acknowledges, or even _touches _Zacabi?"

"I remember his fist touching my face pretty well..." Jack muttered, rubbing his chin.

"I said _nobody else_."

"I know."

"So, I'm wondering if this is somehow in our heads. But then, while it's understandable if you're unconscious, it doesn't explain why I'm here."

"Unless you're not really here..." Jack narrowed his eyes sceptically, trying to discern whether she was real or not by visual examination alone. He actually reminded her of Daniel. Sam shook her head.

"No, I'm here, Sir."

"But you'd say that even if you weren't."

"_Sir_..." Sam rolled her eyes. Jack couldn't fake that tone. Besides, he preferred to think he wasn't alone in this.

"Alright. So maybe you are here-"

"_Maybe_?" Sam scoffed and grabbed his shoulder, turning Jack away from her. With both hands firmly holding him in place, she tested him. "Alright, where am I hiding the button?"

For a moment Jack wasn't sure what she was talking about. "The one from the field?" He frowned, trying to look over his shoulder. She turned his head back to face the ocean.

"Yes. I moved it. If this is your imagination, it'll be wherever you think it is. So where is it?"

"Ah..." Jack shrugged. "Left ankle?"

Sam didn't reply, but held out her right hand near the corner of his eye. The green, slightly chipped button hung from her wrist on a thin, white thread.

"See?" She left on hand on his arm as he revolved to face her. Jack lifted his chin.

"What if I had guessed right?"

"I'd ask something else," she shrugged nonchalantly. He was still musing on what else she could ask him as she continued down the shore.

"Like what?" he called, still stuck in the sand.

Sam kept walking and shouted out, "Guess where my tattoo is!"

_'She has a tattoo?'_ Jack blinked a few times and began running after her along the beach. That would be his secondary mission: finding said tattoo.

~ SJ ~

Their search along the beach was as fruitless as the last. It was still an hour or so before sunset by the time they'd made it back to the cliff, practically dragging their feet up the rocky track. The Colonel made it to the top first and sat on the grass, rubbing his calves while he waited for her.

"Have you taken a look at that?" Sam came to the top of the track, her eyes looking up the tangled branches of the dead, stripped tree that overlooked the cliff. Jack followed her gaze to the tree, but dismissively returned his attention to her.

"Not really."

Sam circled the tree, looking up the trunk and ran a hand over the smooth wood. "I wonder why the sun hasn't bleached it grey. Unless it's not dead, but most trees need chlorophyll to photosynthesize..." She added her other hand to the brown wood.

"Well, everyone knows that," Jack shrugged, leaving Sam to guess whether he was being ironic or not. "It's a tree. There are a lot of trees," he reminded her, tilting his head to the forest.

"But none like this." Sam was getting that doe-eyed look, which utterly confused Jack. It was just a tree! Sam traversed the base of the trunk, until she disappeared behind it. Jack - having had enough of her strange fascination - reached around the tree and grabbed her hands. Sam stopped and poked her head around the side.

"Yes Jack?" She asked so innocently and sweetly. He didn't buy it for one second.

"The tree is in the way."

"Of?"

He deliberately gave her a look he knew she'd never seen. He was never allowed to look at her like he was about to devour her. Her own expression dramatically changed, though the wide eyes remained. He smirked and pulled her around the tree towards him. She was surprisingly willing to let him pull her into his arms.

"Me. I can't get to you." He fell back against the trunk, pulling her with him. The intimacy was new-found territory for them, but Sam felt something warm and powerful overtake her. She'd never felt this before. The few seconds as he leaned in to kiss her was probably more intense than the kiss itself.

It wasn't even an all-consuming, enthralling kiss, but it far and away different to the kind shared between friends. When the fact that they were running out of time entered her mind, Sam had to break away from him. Her eyes closed tightly and Sam let her forehead rest on his shoulder.

"You're making this harder. We've only got six days left."

"I think Daniel would say something about having loved and lost. That works for me." He held her close, his arms wrapped securely around her.

~ SJ ~

His skin turned red with the immense heat at sunset. Sam wasn't willing to touch him as he shook on the ground in pain, afraid that she may actually hurt him. This was terrifying, to see him like this. She poured water over him clothes to wet them and hopefully offer some relief. He looked ready to pass out; his eyes kept drooping and then snapping open as if he literally couldn't fall unconscious.

"Carter..." Jack panted loudly. She'd timed the sunset last night and guessed it went on for about three and a half minutes. His hand was blisteringly hot when it grabbed her wrist.

"Almost over, Sir."

The sun was a few second from being fully set when he rolled away from her. Perhaps 'Sir' was not the best thing to say right now. But then again, it may have been, but for all her understanding of science and Jack's self-proclaimed simplicity of mind, she could never work him out.

His breathing evened out and his body went slack. Sam reached out to touch his shoulder; he didn't shy away so she lay down behind him and snuggled into his back. Relief washed through her when he held onto the hand she'd laid over his middle.

"You okay?" She whispered into his neck.

"Yeah. Gotta admit it sucked."

"I can imagine..." she pushed her other arm under his neck, which he instantly let his head rest on. "How do you know 'The Maid of Milan'?

"Hmm?" He grunted sleepily.

"On the beach; when you had your leg in the trap. You told me about 'home, sweet home'. It's from an opera."

"Sara liked Broadway and opera; all those cultural things. I just remembered it. Seemed fitting at the time." She wasn't sure Jack had really thought through what he'd said; she expected a sign of discomfort when talking about his ex wife. Perhaps he was too tired to care.

"It was very fitting. Tomorrow we'll try the forest." Jack mumbled something unintelligible. "Hmm?" Sam began to feel the pull of sleep too.

"Find Zacabi and Xerus too..."

"Okay..." Sam yawned, shifting her shoulder on the hard ground. "Tomorrow..."

~ SJ ~

**It was short, but covered some important stuff IMHO. I wrote two chapters today :) Do you know how awesome that is? Obviously I did not update twice today, however. But hey, at least I know I can do it :)**

***dances in chair* Keller and Frasier, Keller and Frasier, La la la lala! (Yep, someone is excited!) Hey, it's impossible to get to the San Diego Con ATM. Lemme have my fun. They're in Australia For cryin' out loud! XD**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/Ramble: Beware; I'm technically working without a beta. So, all mistakes are essentially mine. This chapter may be a trip and have a lot of short scenes; so you can take or leave it. Don't be afraid if you find yourself wondering what's going on, but I've added scenes to clarify. Amazingly. Also, I seem to have a water theme running at the moment. Dunking! Please, Enjoy!**

**~ 12 ~**

His white robe hung over the branch as he carefully lay along the limb. The bark was sharp on his back, but it didn't matter; they would be here in a few minutes and he could put a stop to all this senseless searching. There was no Stargate to be found. Here they were, wasting the precious time he'd given them; it was not to be tolerated.

Below, the cracking of branches and crushing of dried leaves drew Zacabi's eye's downwards. Tauri humans were so slow.

"Showtime," he smirked, flexing his fingers and cracking his ancient knuckles.

~ SJ ~

"So if they came through the Gate after us, what's to say they didn't take Teal'c or Daniel? Or even if they were already here..." Sam angled her leg to climb over a half fallen tree trunk covered with patches of dry moss.

"Then they'd probably have brought them to the Colosseum. And since they aren't there..." Jack pushed a branch out the way, which almost escaped his grip and flicked him in the face. He growled and snapped the thick branch. "...or my powers of observation are severely lacking, I reckon they weren't captured."

"So those men were probably on the planet when we arrived."

"If that was a different planet..."

Sam wiped her sleeve over her face, taking dry pine-like nettles, dirt and the occasional spider web with it. "Well, I think it's a different planet. I have a feeling this is an island. The beaches look similar, but they wouldn't have taken us far from the Gate. Either that or they took us from the mainland or another island to this one."

"Which means?

"We were probably brought here in some kind of vehicle. But if that's the case, we just need to find it."

"Great... Carter, does the air feel kind of thin to you?" Jack panted, stopping by a tree and leaning against it. Thinking about it, while they shouldn't really be tired, Sam had to agree. Surely their fitness hadn't degraded so quickly. She was having a lot of difficulty pulling the air into her lungs.

~ SJ ~

"I'll need a second set of hands."

Zacabi waved his fingers rhythmically in front of him, as if holding an invisible ball, approximately two feet wide. Every now and then, he'd push his hands a little closer together. Once Sam and Jack came into view near the tree below, his fingers tensed like claws and the gap shrank even further.

Xerus merely sat beside him with her arms folded in disapproval. "Your methods are akin to madness." Nevertheless, she freed her hands and held them in front of her chest.

Zacabi's hands moved fluidly and he moved one to his neck. His hand closed into a fist, tightening slowly while the other reached down to clench his left rib.

"Panic and fear..." Xerus held two fingers up to her temple and drew circles in her soft skin. Below them, the effects of their actions became evident. A hand pointed to the distance until a loud snap could be heard. "They always seem to find security in each other." She crossed her arms over her chest.

~ SJ ~

By now Sam was panting deeply and felt the beginning of a stitch in her side. Okay, so she hadn't been exercising much lately, but they'd spent the last two days traipsing the beaches. Running in sand was difficult, but to do it all day was an achievement. So she had to assume they weren't suffering from a lack of fitness. What if it was the trees? A biological component that had an adverse effect on their systems.

"Yes, Sir... The forest is pretty dense, but sometimes I can feel a breeze. Maybe we should head back." She grimaced and groaned at the sharp pain in her side. She hadn't gotten a stitch from running in years. It felt like she was wearing a corset; there physically wasn't enough room in her chest to alleviate the ache in her lungs. She rubbed her neck roughly, trying to urge some of the moisture in her mouth to move to her parched throat.

She looked up at Jack; the way his eyes darted around and his breathing was fast and shallow worried her. "Colonel?"

He swallowed with difficulty. "You're right, we should head back. There's no point looking in here. Unless we can find the place they caught us, there's no point wasting our time with this much forest." He looked around, his hands clenching and relaxing repeatedly. If Sam didn't know better, the Colonel was beginning to panic.

_SNAP!_

Jack span around quickly; by now Sam could hear his loud breathing very clearly, despite the fact that he was more than six feet away.

"You hear that? Yeah, definitely need to get out of here." He began backing towards her, his hands reaching for nothing behind him. Rarely did Sam ever see him so uncomfortable. The Colonel was never scared. Correction; he got scared, but seldom showed it. He acted out of anger or retreated into himself when confronted with fear.

''Sir?''

He didn't respond, so Sam reached out to touch his shoulder. He jumped high enough to clear his feet from the ground. He turned to her with barely contained panic in his eyes. ''Sir... Relax.'' She held his cheeks in her firm hands, forcing him to listen to her words.

As soon as she touched him, the air returned, her body felt soothed and calm, and she may have woken up from a deep sleep moments ago. The effect was the same with Jack; that surreal fear in his eyes faded like a receding tide and she felt the tension leaving his body.

''Come on. We'll go back to the beach. We'll take today off.''

She had to admit, to have him seize her hand and willingly follow her back through the forest was extremely bizarre. The Colonel wasn't the _leader _of SG-1 for nothing. Something had shaken him. He was silent for almost half the trip, until he dropped her hand and fell into step beside her, as if it were a routine mission. The loss of contact didn't go unnoticed. In fact, her mind lingered on it until he spoke.

''We should try and talk to the other inmates tomorrow... Starting with Merrit. She's the only one who's spoken to us apart from Blondie and the red-head.''

''Yes, Sir.'' Sam nodded resolutely, happy to fall back into her Second in Command position. Or at least to have Jack back in his.

The overpowering smell of sea salt and the crashing of waves met them when the trees began to thin. The beach had a beautifully calming effect. Montages of sand and azure water flashed through the trees as they neared the edge of the forest. Sam had to wonder that a pine forest was doing so close to the sea. It was very out of place.

The pine nettles and branches disappeared into the sand that snuck between her toes and under her heels, brushing the moisture of the forest away.

''Oh, damn...'' Jack was smiling in disbelief, but shaking his head. She sometimes feared that look, when he realised something so obvious, which she had missed.

''What?''

''It's hot and there's a beach...''

Sam struggled to follow his thinking. ''Sir?'' The answer came quickly when Sam found herself being pushed and pulled towards the water. ''Colonel!'' The squeal that escaped her was far girlier than what should be heard from a respectable Air Force Officer. The bastard was trying to through her into the water! ''Sir! Don't you dare!''

This managed to stop Jack, only a few feet into the shallow waves; he still had his arms securely locked around her waist from behind. To have him so close: it made her heart race. He smelled like pine and his voice was soft, but gravelly, in her ear.

''Is that an order... Major?'' She kept pushing against him, trying to nudge him back to the dry sand. ''Sorry. Not gonna happen.''

Her feet left the water, but there was little relief to be had. Jack lifted her up and waded further out, ignoring her incessant wriggling. She wasn't useless against him; in her heart she didn't want to fight him. Jack barked a loud laugh in her ear and fell sideways into the water.

Cold. And the impact of the short fall was dizzying. They may have been cliff-diving for all she knew. Her mind went numb and she felt a huge weight against her chest. Upon deep, yet very unfamiliar, instinct, she wrapped her arms around it. She knew it was Jack. The joviality of the moment was lost to fear and acceptance.

The water pressed into them, pushing them together.

~ SJ ~

''Unbelievable...'' Zacabi sighed at the two humans, huddled together in the shallow water, quite content in their slumber. The sun dried their clothes and the waves kept their bodies cool.

He'd watched them fall into the water, stay under for a minute and emerge. He saw that look in their eyes, watched in melt away with the tide and make way for a playfulness neither of them had felt in years. They ran and swam...They'd laughed and even shared what most humans would consider a very tender kiss. Now they were sleeping.

Touching, really. But they were wasting time.

Zacabi scanned the beach and found the direction that led to the cliffs. ''A little angst goes a long way.''

He pointed a hand to the distant horizon and clenched his fist. It rotated til his knuckles faced the ground and with great strain, he pulled his hand towards his chest. Beneath his bare feet, the sands shifted and the horizon bulged. The cliff they'd climbed down to get to the beach moved slowly towards him, swallowing rocks and tufts of grass in its approach. It came to a grinding halt a little over two hundred feet away, dropping large chunks of brown dirt onto the creamy sand.

''Hmm...'' He smirked and lifted his gaze to the cloudless sky. ''And since they work better under pressure...''

The winds picked up and Zacabi followed the sun crossed the sky overhead, zooming from its early morning position to near dusk.

Perfect.

''Wakey wakey...''

~ SJ ~

Mmm...

A toasty warm sun; nice, cool churning water. Best of all: a sleeping Carter draped over his side. That was the sweetest part. How many times had the very thought of holding her like this crossed his mind? Too many to count, really. He had never dwelled on the feeling, unlike the way he was now. It was always just a fleeting idea. A lot of what if's.

But this was good. Very good. Hell, it felt downright fantastic. The illicit nature of their embrace did nothing to motivate him to move. His eyes were heavy with sleep, but he cracked them open to see the golden hair that had been tickling his nose. The sight of her resting so peacefully against him brought a heartfelt smile to his lips. She looked comfortable and content; to know that he had some part in that, warmed him from head to toe.

God, she'd turned him into a sap.

But he liked how her hair shone when the light came through it. It was almost strawberry with the orange sky in the background...

''Shit!'' The sun was setting! How could they risk sleeping away the day?

He roughly shook her shoulder. ''Carter! Come on; we gotta get back.''

She woke abruptly, pushing herself up and looking around wildly. Sam was normally a light sleeper offworld and Jack's anxiety had her instantly awake and ready for action. Jack pulled her by the elbow and they staggered to their feet.

''You gotta go!''

The sight of the cliff so near and the sun edging the horizon Sam up short, but the sharp push at her back and the urgency in Jack's tone speared her towards the track.

''Go, go, go!'' Jack prompted her up the trail, shoving her forwards when he could. He began to fall behind, bit she kept running. If Jack didn't make it back, he'd only have to suffer his punishment alone. If she wasn't in her cell by sunset, she was dead.

Sam clambered up to the top of the cliff; being a little spryer than her Colonel, he was still slipping and sliding on the grainy track. He must have known she would automatically try and help him up.

''Get your ass moving, Carter! Don't you dare wait for me!'' He waved her away, gesturing for him to keep running. She was worried about him, but knew to follow his order. Their shoes were probably still on the beach, so she had to sprint bare-foot back to the Colosseum. The trees were all but reaching out and grabbing her clothes on the run back. She could see the main gates just as the sun was on the verge of setting.

~ SJ ~

"Absolute...Bastard. I'm gonna skin him!" Jack grit his teeth as the effects of his punishment wore off. It really was getting worse each time. His clothes were dotted with holes and burn marks. His skin actually blistered and bubbled during sunset. God only knew what would happen on the seventh or eighth day.

He groaned and rolled onto his back, pushing a hand through his hair. He'd only made it halfway back when the sun began to set. It seemed to go longer tonight but he didn't have Sam there to coach him through it.

He pulled his hand away, taking a fistful of hair with it. Damn it; at this rate, he'd be hairless in the next few days. He had to push that thought aside. Vanity was the last thing he'd need to worry about. His hair would grow back.

Right now he needed to see if Sam had made it back in time.

He managed to stumble the last few hundred yards to the Colosseum. The fires of the burning statue guided him through the sandy courtyard and towards the cell he and Sam usually stayed in.

"Carter?" He braced his arms against the doorway, his elbows shaking from exhaustion. She wasn't inside that he could see.

"Carter!"

~ SJ ~

**Would I kill Sam? I mean, really? You'll have to wait and see. I told you it was a trip. I promise not to confuse you with more of these short scene-heavy chapters. At least until the end. That can't be avoided. **


	13. Chapter 13

**A/Ramble: We finally find out what Teal'c and Daniel have been up to during all of this, but there is a bit of a time jump. Otherwise this chapter should be pretty straightforward. Also, I have discovered something very, very important: **_**everything**_** is better chipmunked. *Sings Lady Gaga's 'Disco Stick' in chipmunk* Sorry, I'm easily distracted. I should put that on youtube... Help me go viral? Please; Enjoy!**

~ 13 ~

_Earlier_,

Oh God, she could feel the sun fading on the back of her neck. Her legs were begging for her to stop but the need to make it back to her cell - any cell - was too great. Sam pushed harder until she stumbled, breaking the fall with both hands on the ground and deftly bounding back onto her feet.

The gates loomed over her and she quickly broke to the right and ran straight for the nearest open cell. The sand beneath her feet slowed her approach so she used the tried and true method to cross the threshold as the shield rose. With the last of her energy, she dove into the room, grinding across the sandy floor. The shield rose behind her but she didn't care to look. Her body ached and felt weaker than ever before. But she'd made it.

~ SJ ~

"Damn it!" Jack growled, bashing his fist against the doorway. She was more reliable than this. She wouldn't allow herself to get caught. Jack leaned against the stone, trying to calm the storm of possibilities threatening to overwhelm him. He hadn't passed her on the way here; the path was almost direct and he hadn't heard any screaming. Heaven forbid.

'Think like Carter. She must have made it back,' Jack thought as he opened his eyes. Maybe his eyes where paying tricks on him, but even in the orange hues of the lingering sunset, he was sure there was a blue light flashing intermittently onto the back of his hand.

"Colonel!" The voice was slightly distorted, but he knew it as well as he knew his own. One look over his shoulder and his eyes met hers. If time was as short as it had been, of course she'd go to the nearest cell.

Sam smacked her fist against the shield, causing it to crackled and snap with the familiar pale azul glow.

"Carter!" He stumbled without anything resembling grace through the sand to the cell nearest the main gates. Sam was barely holding herself in a sitting position on the floor, relieved that she had been able to get his attention in spite of the pain she endured from touching the shield.

"Are you alright, Sir?" She asked as Jack skidded to a halt, almost colliding with the energised barricade.

"Dandy. You get here in one piece?" His eyes were bouncing across every part of her body he could see in the waning light.

She decided not to tell him how close she'd come to missing the lockup, but spared him any further anxiety. "I'm fine. I just came here rather than risk crossing the compound."

Jack nodded, breathing a heavy sigh.

"And at least I chose a good cell; look who I'm sharing it with." Sam managed an exhausted smile and looked over her shoulder. Jack was finally able to avert his attention to something other than Sam and notice the figure hidden in the back of the cell.

"Merrit."

The young Nox carefully stepped forwards, her hair looking oddly grey in the orange light.

"Colonel. You do not look well."

By the look on her face, Sam had noticed something different about Jack too.

"Sir... your hair..." she was looking at the top of his head, where he was sure displaying a notable bald patch. "And your clothes. God, I'm sorry, Sir."

"It's fine Carter. It'll grow back." Sam shook her head in disbelief. How on Earth could the man dismiss what was happening to him? "And hey, by tomorrow, my legs will be nice and hairless. I've seen you watching them and thinking about waxing them as a prank."

The fact that he smiled only made the situation hurt more.

"Sir... that's not funny."

"I know."

They sat in silence, oblivious to Merrit's careful observations. It was, perhaps, a good thing they were so enrapt in their unspoken exchange to see her very knowing smirk of success, or the subtle flicker of red in her eyes.

~ SJ ~

"Sam? Sam, come in?" Daniel tried for possibly the twentieth time that afternoon to contact either Sam or Jack. With a growl of frustration, he threw the radio onto the grass. Teal'c watched it fly and blinked behind his sunglasses when it landed. "We'll have to head back." The sun was close to setting and although they were only due to stay for an overnight reconnaissance, he had expected the other half of his team to return for dinner.

Teal'c nodded and lifted his pack to his shoulder. "They intended to explore the coast. We should follow the path they took."

"Well then, we're gonna have to head out now. I don't want to leave them here overnight."

Teal'c gave him a simple nod of agreement and a rumbling "mm".

Daniel swiped his radio up from the prickling grass it had landed in, jumping slightly when the sharp blades cut the side of his index finger. He gave his hand a firm shake and quickly examined the shallow slice. It wasn't bleeding, so, satisfied he wouldn't suffer any ill effects, he followed Teal'c down the track.

The sun was long set by the time they managed to find the Stargate again and to make the situation even better, it began to rain. The winds howled and blasted them with humid, salty air.

"Keep going or report in?" Daniel called over the wind, holding his hat to his head. Normally Teal'c would have erred on the side of caution and reported in, so Daniel was surprised when he chose the initial suggestion. He didn't say anything, but nodded and they set off down the dark trail towards the beach.

The wind reached its climax when they found the sandy dunes that crested the end of the trail. Though it was very dark, both men kept their sunglasses on to shield their eyes from the sting of the rain and salty wind; it made it more difficult to see with only their flashlights to rely upon, but was far better than the alternative. Hence, Daniel certainly didn't see the large hand that smacked into his chest, almost knocking the wind out of him. He halted abruptly, held in place by Teal'c's hand.

"What is it?" He yelled over the roaring winds. Teal'c pointed to the ground right in front of them with his staff weapon. Daniel pulled his sunglasses from his nose, letting them drop to his chest.

Half hidden in the sand was a large metal clamp, covered in what appeared to be blood. In fact, the surrounding wet sand bore the slightly darker hues of the shed brew. Teal'c knelt down to inspect the sprung trap.

"Someone trying to catch the wildlife?" Daniel wondered, though he knew as well as Teal'c did the immediate area surrounding the Gate showed no signs of human inhabitation.

Teal'c wasn't willing to reply as he pulled a minute chunk of black and grey leather from between the traps teeth.

~ SJ ~

**Short, I know. Luckily, someone has a four day weekend to play with. Touch wood. *Hugs desk* In fact, I may shift focus to this and see if we can wrap it up. Amazingly, we don't have far to go. Oh, right: mistakes are mine. Adi, stuff your exams and come back to me :) Pretty please?**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/Ramble: So much for 'shifting focus'... FML**. **ADI'S BACK! ADI'S BACK! Happy Kaiti!** **True story: my doctor is worried about my brain. I'll let you know if I'm diagnosed with premature Alzheimer's or something - no offense to anyone - since I'm only twenty... Where were we? Oh right, the story! Enjoy!**

~ 14 ~

"Sir, you should go..." Sam lifted a hand to touch the shield, but stopped within a few inches and closed her hand into a fist. All she wanted was the freedom to reach out and run her fingers through his hair and she certainly didn't have it now. Why she hadn't taken the time to do that yet, she didn't know.

"Where the hell would I go?" The Colonel frowned, clearly hurt but trying not to show it.

"Go explore the spots we haven't been able to get to because of time restrictions. You've got a whole day before you..." She waved to him with wiggling fingers.

"Spontaneously combust?" 

"That's a myth."

"No, it's not."

"Sir," she scowled, hunching her shoulders, "you can cut across the fields and look for some kind of supply route."

"What are gonna do while I'm gone, huh?"

Sam closed her eyes and rubbed her right eyebrow, feeling a vein pulsing beneath her sand-gritted skin. "Go find Zacabi... or Xerus. Either one. But first I'll have a chat with..." She tilted her head towards Merrit. The Colonel nodded carefully.

"Then what?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet."

"I don't believe you," he smirked, a glitter of mischief in his eyes. His ability to make jokes in the face of almost hopeless situations was downright inappropriate sometimes. Like right now.

"Colonel," she warned in a low voice. Jack waved a placating hand and looked to the main gates. His shirt flipped in the breeze, which seemed strange in the utter stillness of the cell.

"Alright; I'll be back late in the morning. If I get eaten by some kind of alien monster, I expect you to be very choked up," he pointed his finger at her, though she knew he was teasing her. He sat up straighter, looking over her shoulder to Merrit, "Can you help Carter find Zacabi?"

The young Nox was twisting a wiry strand of her lavender hair when Jack startled her.

"Yes. I will do what I can," she nodded quickly, clasping her hands together around the loose hem of her white shirt. Jack gave Sam one last look of goodbye and a hint of longing before he stood up and ran from the colosseum.

~ SJ ~

_Later_

When Sam stepped out and scanned the usual bustling crowds of inmates, her only goal was to find Zacabi. Despite what she and Jack had agreed upon, she couldn't believe all of this was real. It was too foolproof; the security systems too efficient and the information too evasive.

Only once had they come across technology they recognised and the events surrounding the discovery of the Ancient door lock overshadowed what should have been elation. She could only think of one key player in this place: Zacabi. Xerus and Merrit were worth paying attention to, but it was the mysterious blonde man that kept Sam awake at night.

Aside from the prospect of impending death.

"Do you see him?" Sam asked her Nox companion, her arms folded over her chest and she did nothing to quell the intimidating look in her eyes.

"No, I can't..." the slightly timid reply came.

The people continued to move past them and whenever one had the gall to look her way, Sam realised they were almost looking right through her. Their eyes were cast in her direction, but they didn't see; they weren't reacting.

The bands, the cells, their damn hierarchy; the circumstances of their capture and the fact that she - a woman not _normally_ inclined to toot her intellectual horn - could not work out this stupid Romanesque colosseum brought home the truth she'd been toying with. This place can't be real. If it wasn't, then she had no regrets in what she was about to do.

"Go find Zacabi and bring him to me!" Sam turned on the young Nox and barked loud enough to make the younger woman recoil. Merrit nearly fell in the rough sand as she fled; Sam wasn't sure if she had scared her or she was hurrying to comply with the command. She didn't care.

Evidently the rest of the inmates did. Sam had one hundred and twelve pairs of eyes on her - she and Jack had counted one day to track new arrivals - and she met as many as she could. They had only been so engrossed once before; the fight between Zacabi and Jack.

The fight... wait. There was something she was missing from that. She could feel it. At the time she hated Jack for his betrayal. No. Think, think, think... Jack was beating the crap out of Zacabi. If the Colonel beat Zacabi, why would Zacabi do as Jack had ordered... if he didn't have one of the bands?

"And if..." her eyes widened as the questions came quickly.

But she absolutely decked Jack; did that mean she could still influence him? Or Zacabi? Where they, therefore, in her mind or the Colonel's? Jack was as sure as she was that this was real to him; that he wasn't the figment of imagination.

The sheer lack of logic surrounding her made Sam close her eyes and cover her face with her hands.

The statue. The burning man.

Without opening her eyes, Sam held out a hand that shook in spite of her determination to steady it and began walking. The wind picked up and the voices faded into the sandy breeze until she couldn't hear them. She walked slowly towards the centre of the colosseum.

Her mind told her she would trip over someone soon, but the sand kept coming and nothing impeded her march towards the statue but the wind. She continued blindly until she was sure she would burn her hand on the perpetually engulfed monument.

Suffice to say, all logic had flown out the window with a loud, high-pitched "_Wheeee_!"

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you..."

She didn't feel gravity shift, but the moment she snapped her eyes open to the sound of Zacabi's rough voice, her body impacted the sandy ground. It was like that strange sensation of floating above your bed when you were between sleeping and waking, and you felt like you were falling back onto your bed.

Zacabi sat on the edge of the trough that circled the statue and usually held a lot of burning oil. Instead, the base was dry and filled with dust and dry leaves. He looked so calm with his arms and ankles crossed so comfortably and a positively serene look on his face.

Sam scrambled to her feet.

"What the hell is going on here?" She demanded, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

"That's a loaded question."

"Then who are you?"

Zacabi chuckled, his shoulders shaking a little. "That's an infinitely larger question." He pointed a finger at her lazily. "One day I might tell you."

"Are you an Ancient?"

"Ooh, sort of... No... But that's about as close a guess as you'll ever get."

"Then explain it to me."

"No, see, you're wasting time. That Colonel of yours has only a few days left. You really shouldn't be bothering with exploration and start looking at what's happening inside these walls rather than outside."

"What does it matter if all of this is in my head?"

"_Your_ head? Are you sure?"

"Fine; the Colonel's head, but I refuse to believe this is real."

Zacabi touched his chin thoughtfully. "Even if this is happening, as you say, 'in your head', what's to say it's not real? We both know you and Colonel O'Neill feel very real fear when you have nightmares. _And you do have them._"

Do not let him distract you.

"How do we get out of here?"

"Oh, that's the best part! After this, you're going to wake up in your cell and have no idea this conversation happened except for a few lingering ideas that you won't be able to discern from your dreams. I'm just going to be the... I guess you could call me 'the warden'... you remember me being and when the time comes, hopefully you'll start making the right decisions." He leant forwards and gave her an endearing smile. "You'll know where to find me, so when you choose the correct path to take; you'll come and see me."

What the hell was this man smoking?

Zacabi made a click with his tongue. "Don't worry Sam, this is only the beginning."

~ SJ ~

Sam gasped dryly when she woke abruptly in the middle of the night. The sudden jolt woke Jack, whose chest she'd been sleeping against. He yawned deeply and rubbed her back.

"Alright?"

Sam frowned, unsuccessfully trying to grasp the remnants of what felt like a profound dream.

"Yeah. I'm fine." She lay her head back down on his shoulder.

The day had been long and fruitless. She'd spend her time combing every inch of the structure while Jack had gone out past the fields. He hadn't found any roads or hint of infrastructure beyond the worked lands. He'd returned less than an hour before sunset and collapsed on the floor. Sam had been quick to join him and they must have fallen asleep.

"Jack?"

"Mm?"

"On the last day, can we not do anything?"

This stirred Jack closer to lucidity. "You gonna give up on me?"

She sighed, "No... Maybe. We'll keep looking, but let's leave the last day for everything else."

She didn't get a response and began to fall asleep. She was almost there when he whispered, "Okay."

~ SJ ~

**I swore I wasn't going to reveal anything about Zacabi until the end, but as an apology for the delay, I decided to throw the proverbial bone.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/Ramble: So I'm minding my own business and mother-duckling comes home to tell me "I bought a new TV; it'll be here tomorrow." **_**Well!**_** Goodbye 1920's cathode ray, hello big plasma (I'm worrying about our electricity bill...) So get this, we only have three, maybe four chapters to go! I'll be able to finish 'Meet you on the Other Side' and by then I may have some significant news for you :) I also have yogurt on my face right now. No, really; I do. Enjoy. **

**~ 15 ~**

It was on day eight that the Colonel finally withdrew into himself and seemed to accept his fate. The burnings had progressed into full bodied combustion, completely destroying his clothes and rendering him totally hairless. In sympathy, Sam called upon her almost nonexistent homemaking skills to finagle a beanie-like cap for him, which he graciously accepted and had been wearing all morning.

She didn't want to openly feel sorry for him; it would only serve to lower their morale and it was probably the last thing Jack wanted from her. In reality, her unwillingness to face her fears of tainting her relationship with him, which expressing her apprehension would undoubtedly cause due to her overwhelming respect and unspoken love of his approval, was probably making the situation worse. From past experiences, she knew they were able to mutualise their emotions and mental states after a long enough periods in each other's company. If she was feeling low, he would reflect the mood. She needed to tell him how much his impending death was going to hurt her.

They'd spent the whole night talking; apart from a few tender subjects on both parts, pretty much anything was fair game, particularly from their childhoods. A lengthy part of their conversations was dedicated to the origins for their behaviours and tastes; like why she'd chosen astrophysics and loved her motorcycle, or why Jack enjoyed fishing so much. And she finally learned what colour peridot was- it was a light green.

He'd been sitting in the same spot all morning; she'd spent as much time watching him. He tossed a small amount of sand between his hands, fingers curled as if grasping a ball. When the sand ran out, he'd sigh deeply through his nose and pick up another handful. She wondered if he found any symbolism in the act. His time was running out or the hope of being saved. She saw it; maybe that was why he sighed between the draining of granules between his fingers. Then again, years of association offered much insight into the workings of her CO's mind. It was more complex, and, at times, chaotic than he let on; this she was certain of.

"Sir..."

She had to tell him. I don't want you to die. I wish it could have been me. I wish there was another way.

He didn't stop the fluid turning of his hands. In fact, it was starting to vex her. She reached out and grabbed his left wrist, stilling his hands. The button still bound to hers tapped against his skin, knocking to capture his attention.

"Jack..." She spoke gently, more than a whisper, but not enough for the other inmates eating their morning meal to hear. "You have to know, if there was any way-"

"I know."

She wasn't sure if he did, but she could always hope.

"What are we doing today then?"

Finally his lifted his head and something in the intense gaze that met her eyes warned her that he was about to suggest something drastic.

"I want you to try and cut this thing out of my neck."

~ SJ ~

"I thought it was a chunk of cloth but it looks like tanned leather." Daniel drew the thumbnail-sized piece of black leather closer to his torch, squinting to see the more minute details. "The smooth side is really water resistant."

"Colonel O'Neill has been known to use a wax substance to waterproof his boots," Teal'c added, raising his hand to shield his eyes from the stinging onslaught of rain.

"Yeah, but so does Sam. So if one of them got their leg caught, they wouldn't have gone far.."

"They may not have been able to release the mechanism; it looks very strong." He tapped the clamp with the base of his staff-weapon, provoking a loud clink between the metals.

"Maybe. Might need to wait until sunrise; I can't see five feet in front of me."

"Agreed. We must move into the forest to wait out the storm." Teal'c looked out over the sea, a distant flash of lightning briefly illuminating his features.

~ SJ ~

"Jack, the last time I even tried to go near your neck, with the intention _of simply touching it,_ you... _you_ _know_..."

"I am so beyond caring. Just do it fast."

"How? Drive a dirty blade into your neck and try and pry it out, without cutting any important veins?" She hoped the very deliberate scowl she was giving him would get the message.

Jack shuffled along the ground until they were knee to knee.

"I'm gonna die anyway."

Sam ground her teeth, battling in her mind whether to say the words her inner voice was screaming. In the end, that voice won.

"Not by my hand... please don't ask me to kill you."

"Hey, better you than a chunk of metal in the back of my neck."

Metal?

"How do you know it's metal, Sir?"

Jack backed away, outside the proximity reserved for more intimate moments. "I don't know. I kind of remember some things. Like someone talking to me about..." He looked up, sifting through his memories, "...Gods and- a sword. I keep going back to ideas about fire and water. Makes sense given the scenery." He glanced over his shoulder to the perpetually burning statue. His eyes quickly shifted to a pair of red orbs than appeared to sense his gaze and met his. He snapped back around to Sam.

"Come on Carter... I won't make it an order." He pulled out the big guns, "Please."

"I wouldn't comply if it were."

He chuckled softly and shook his head.

"No matter how much it'll hurt, I'll still..." His eye twitched, holding back grimace, "...forgive you."

Oh no... She was going to give into him. She could feel the tendrils of submission rising through her ribcage and inside her throat. Here it comes;

"Alright. But I'm only trying it once."

What worried her was the fact that she didn't really agree out of subordination; she was becoming a sap for this man.

~ SJ ~

It took the rest of the morning to find something satisfactorily sharp, which came in the form of a relatively newly fashioned blade from the storeroom. Of the ones she'd found, this one had the least rust and stains. As she crossed the compound, the knife inconspicuously tucked up her sleeve, she slowed by the statue.

Of course! With one quick glance around the courtyard to ensure she was still alone, Sam dashed towards the burning cenotaph and carefully held the knife's tip in the flames, sterilising as much of the metal as she could.

She was still poking the pointed tip to see if it had gotten hot enough when she returned to their cell. Jack was pacing the room slowly, his arms crossed with more anxiety than impatience.

"Find anything?" he approached her hastily, looking down at her hands. She offered him the knife to inspect. "Yeah, that should do the job." Sam nodded and spoke without thinking;

"Can you take off your shirt, Sir?"

She would have loved his 'huh?' face if she actually saw it. Instead, she realised what she'd said and quickly explained herself.

"There will be a lot of blood, once I remove it... And we're not using mine."

He had the good grace to take this without making any kind of derogatory remark and easily pulled off the loose garment. He rolled the cloth around his hand and then removed it to give her the compact ball.

"I've been thinking it might be easier for you to lie on the floor; then I can hold you down."

As he moved to the floor, she caught something along the lines of "..._she likes to be on top_."

"Sir, I'm about to take a knife to your neck... behave."

He feigned perfect innocence and tucked both hands under his stomach. "I'm all yours, Doc."

"How many times must I remind you that I'm not an MD?" She deliberately dropped down onto his lower shoulder blades because he was being a pain. He gave an audible "oof," but offered no complaint.

"Hurry up Carter, I think it knows what you're gonna try and do." He let his forehead rest against the ground, but reached up to pull the beanie down to his eyebrows, then returned to his immobile position and shut his eyes tightly.

She was glad he couldn't see the apprehension that she knew would be clearly written across her face. Looking at her hand, she could see it shaking. It was a strange logic, but the more she stared at her hand and willed it to settle, the less it shook.

"Sam, Relax. You're not the first person to take a knife to me without anaesthetic... In a good way."

"That supposed to make me feel better?"

"It was worth a shot."

"Well... Thanks. For trying, I mean."

Since he was distracted and about to say something else, Sam wrapped her arm around the top of his head, securing it in place and with a surprising amount of force, cut into the reddened skin at the top of the faded scar on his neck.

His reaction was instant.

"AARRGGHHH!" He cried into the stone floor, writhing violently and grinding his teeth in an attempt to control himself. The blade pierced the skin; there was no turning back now she'd started. She was being careful, which she knew was going to prolong the experience. She wasn't sure if it was her own adrenaline, but his skin was heating beneath her.

Even the handle of the knife felt hot. She made an incision almost an inch long and could feel a solid object against the knife, but the rising temperature in the Colonel's skin became too much. He was burning up and she was sure the inside of her left arm and thighs were an angry red from simply being in contact with him. If this was what it felt like, she really couldn't imagine what he was going through.

And she was so damn close too! If she'd only moved faster; hell, gouging the damn thing out might have worked.

"Get off me!" Jack rolled and clambered away from her, his entire body sweating and his clothes showing small brown scorch marks. He didn't completely curl into a ball, but pulled his knees up to his chest and lace his fingers over the back of his neck.

Steam from his sizzling sweat rose and disappeared into the draft that came through the wide doorway.

"Oh God Sir, I'm so sorry!" She was breathing as hard as he was; she didn't even notice the loud clatter of the knife falling to the ground.

"I'm fine!" Jack snapped and though he was sincere, she preferred to think he was lying to alleviate her guilt. She'd rather him be angry, despite it being his request that she do it. Her hands clasped upon their own accord, but she opened them and looked down, aghast at the sight of his blood seeping between her fingers. She roughly wiped them on her shirt and pants until they felt dry and ran them through her hair, fisting the strands tightly.

"I can't do this, Jack..."

She thought her breaking point was greater than this. It felt too early for someone like her to be giving up.

"I know... _I know_." His voice shook and whistled through his breathlessness. "At least you tried. Forget it. We've still got tomorrow."

Sam looked around the barren room; anywhere but at him. "I need some air." She didn't wait for a reply before fleeing the room.

The comfort in the outdoors that she sought eluded her. She had to take a moment to compose herself, one hand on her hip, the other hovering over her mouth. The locked door to the room on the upper levels was visible, and it was as she was staring at it that she came to a decision. Her Colonel- _Jack_, was going to die tomorrow in an absolutely horrible way. Almost as scary; she was going to be left alone without hope of rescue or escape. So when the idea came to her, the fact that it was probably the irrational one she'd ever make, something in the back of her mind assured her it was the right one.

~ SJ ~

**An angsty chapter to come and we find out about Sam's idea/decision. ComicCon tickets came today! Sadly, Teryl Rothery had to cancel the Adelaide Con (she'll be going to the Melbourne one now) but - this is **_**sooo**_** good - Ben Browder is coming in her place! OMFG!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/Ramble: I need my own blog page, seriously. Two chapters after this, if all goes to plan. Came home from Comic Con yesterday and OMG, what a weekend! Hence I'd need the blog to tell you all about it and show you the photos. I'll tell you this; I'm now on Corin Nemic's prank hit-list. 'Felangic (as in fingers/digits) is not a word, but it is now. Brain. Gutter. Separate. This chapter was going to contain smut, but it'd have a two week (further) delay if it did. Anyhoo, Enjoy!**

**~ 16 ~**

Day seven. Only one week by Earth standards but when on another planet a person's perspective of time tends to shift a little. After their failed attempt to perform back alley surgery on Jack's neck to remove the device- or whatever it was, they silently and mutually agreed to escape the asphyxiating confines of the colosseum for the rest of the afternoon.

Sam felt the rough pads of his fingers brushing the inside of her wrist as they traipsed the bristly grassed dunes lining the beach, where the sand was firmer and comfortable to walk on in the growing shade offered by the perfectly grown edge of the forest.

It wouldn't take much to grasp his hand; the way he kept toying with the sensitive skin was both tantalising and irritating. Either way, grabbing his hand would be desirable, albeit for different reasons. When he'd reduced his felangic foreplay to obvious scratching, she had no choice but to restrain his errant fingers with her own. Hence, she felt rather confused when he instantly pulled his hand from hers, but relieved when he threw it across her shoulders and drew her deep into his side with a pleased and hearty chuckle.

"Live a little, Carter," Jack teased in earnest, like there wasn't any potential for a sick twisted joke in his apparent dig at their situation. She, however, did not like the self deprecating joke.

"Sir-"

"_Sam_..."

"You started it."

He had the sense not to argue, but merely lifted his eyebrows. It was a little like Teal'c's eyebrow: it could say a lot of very different things when used correctly. His attention drifted to the forest for a minute as they walked with unsteady feet through the softly shifting sands, until he began pulled away with a gentle pat on her back.

"Check it out," he prompted her to follow him towards an opening in the forest. The faded track leading into the widely spaced trees bore the dips and tiny crests of recently trodden footsteps, smoothed by the winds, but definitely there.

The sound of Jack's bare feet crunching in the sand hit her ears and her mind strayed to their first day on the planet.

_"...but generally water suggests life, or at least the possibility of it."_

_"Didn't life start out in the sea?" The Colonel had asked as they trudged up the dune._

_"That's one theory."_

_"So if we find anything on land..."_

_"Then it's likely there will be something in the sea, yes Sir. But I wouldn't be dropping a line in there-"_

_SNAP!_

_He fell in an instant to the ground, his hands trying to pry the razor sharp clamps apart to free his ankle. That first scream made her stomach turn sharply. She stood for only a second, simply staring at her Colonel. _

"Sam? Sam!" Jack was shaking her shoulder and she jumped when he appeared at her side without her noticing. Finally she turned her head to meet his eyes. "What's up?"

"Sorry, I just- this place reminds me of where they caught us..." she shook her head dismissively, but the frown Jack gave to their surroundings gave away his intrigue.

"Yeah... looks a bit like it, don't it?"

~ SJ~

"No... No. Come on now, keep walking," Zacabi muttered at the humans who'd stopped near the edge of the forest. He hated working on the military kind; they were always so inquisitive and switched on. He made a lazy 'move along' gesture with his hand, his other tucked under his arm as he leaned against the aged trunk of a tree less than ninety feet away.

~ SJ ~

This placed looked like every other dune they'd been to and though the trail was new to them, the more she looked at it, the less familiar it became. This wasn't the place; she could feel it in her bones.

"I dunno. Let's go, I wanna make the most of the next thirty six hours." Jack touched a hand to her lower back, urging her back towards the beach.

"I don't think these days last twenty four hours, Jack." Sam smiled to the ground, nudging his shoulder with her own.

"You know what I mean."

"Most of the time."

"I'm offended," Jack retorted loudly, pressing a hand to his chest in feigned shock. "Carter..." He was silenced by the indignant look she shot his way. "Sorry, but you're 'Carter' to me. Give me a break; it'll just take a bit of time."

"We don't have time."

"I know-"

"Don't force it, Jack. It's alright, just don't call me 'Major'."

"I think I can manage that."

They walked on and came to the point when they had to turn back if they wanted to be in their cell by sunset. Really, it wasn't a case of 'want'. It was a little surreal to be able to give up her inhibitions and just walk with him, chatting freely without feeling like they were constantly being watched. So this was what it felt like to let all the barriers down. At times she'd hold back a response because she remembered that he was her Commanding Officer, but he also a man who... well, she couldn't bring herself to admit it in her head, but she knew what it was growing between them. It had always been there.

~ SJ ~

He was telling her a story about his recruit course, which he managed to twist into a comical and tragic rant about the military culture. She loved that her throat was roughened and her stomach ached with laughter; he loved to be the cause of it. Maybe he liked the way she stayed at his side as they stumbled into the colosseum, cackling like fools and drawing the attention of every other inmate. He couldn't care less. In fact, he welcomed it.

They slid into the nightly migration towards the cells, now calmer and more aware of what was going on. Same old, same old. Wake up, have breakfast, go to work, come home, eat and go to bed. If the men didn't work, they'd have no wheat, meat or fish. If the women shirked their duties, water wouldn't be collected from the stream in the forest and the food wouldn't be prepared for eating. For the briefest moment, Sam felt guilty for not playing her part, but it was easy to move on from the thought when she remembered they had only one day left before she'd be alone. Then she'd be just another inmate waiting to be sold off to invisible buyers by equally invisible salesmen.

Jack stretched as they entered their usual cell, yawning loudly. She was rooted to the floor, simply watching him as he moved. It was a _horrendously _cliched notion, but if this was their last night together, she knew how she wanted to spend it.

She didn't even notice the orange tint in the light until Jack quickly doubled over and panted loudly.

"Heads up..." he groaned with a pained crescendo as the moisture on his skin steamed and sizzled quietly. He learned to spare his clothes, so he threw his beanie on the ground and managed to pull his shirt over his head before his knees buckled and his skin began to blister and crackle. The smell of burning hair signalled the singing of the short bristles of hair that had regrown during the day.

Last night had hailed his first full-body combustion, so Sam knew she had to stay back. She'd be no help to him if she was injured herself. Her band offered advanced healing, but it wasn't as fast as the rate of Jack's restoration. He was usually coherent within minutes and physically back to normal after twenty, maybe thirty.

He fell to the floor, curling into a ball, only to arch his back violently and twist erratically as the flames sparked to life, burning holes into his pants and trickling over his skin like unseen napalm.

She wasn't ashamed to clap her hands to her ears to block the awful sound of his screams, though she forced herself to keep her eyes on him. It was like watching a horror movie; turn off the sound and it wasn't so bad.

It dragged on and on and on...

She only took her eyes from his frantically flaying form to look out the shielded doorway to the skies, willing the sun to set faster. She felt like she could finally breathe when the flames lessened and his naked body stilled. His flesh was black and red, the top layer of skin charred and gone, but she could instantly see it beginning to repair itself. As she did the night before, she approached only to cover his waist with his discarded shirt, before stepping back and lowering herself to the floor to wait for him body to sufficiently repair itself and for him to wake up. She could only guess that he was able to pass out from the pain when it was over. He was unfortunately very much awake for the duration of sunset.

His skin grew back in layers, beginning with the bleeding fleshy layers and finally to the weathered dermis. His body was still blackened and bore a thin sheen of blood, but she was relieved when he stirred. It was always followed by the shakes. She wasn't offended when he rolled away from her and curled up tightly; shy to her touch and trembling with shock.

Unable to wait so patiently, she left him to wet a cloth in the pot of water they habitually collected during the day and kept in their cell. Not surprisingly, he didn't disagree with the cool cloth touching his still-hot skin. She carefully wiped the blood and ash mud from his back and shoulders. He let out a deep breath and rolled onto his back, pressing his palms into his eyes and giving her access to his chest and arms.

"That sucked. A lot."

"I'm sorry..." She steepled her eyebrows, carefully avoiding his gaze.

"Don't be." He sat up and took the cloth to wipe his own face. Sam knew to give him his beanie before he asked for it. They didn't talk about the hair thing very much; she'd learned that it did actually mean something to him. He weakly pulled it down on his head. "Thanks..."

Sam rubbed her hands over her face, wiping the sweat from her eyes and pushing the moisture through her hair.

"Carter?"

She blinked owlishly a few times. "Yeah?"

"Ah..." He looked down to his covered lap, then back up to her. "Got pants for me?"

"Oh... yeah. Gimme a minute."

"Cheers."

Sam sheepishly rose to her feet. Her legs felt like jelly but she wouldn't allow it to show. They still had a pair of pants and two shirts lying in the corner of the room, which Merrit had supplied a few days ago. She swiped up the white linen pants and returned, handing them to Jack. She was courteous enough to turn and face the doorway as he dressed.

"Much better," he muttered. She turned around to see him lying on his back, adorned in pants but the shirt still held in his hands across his chest. Sam gave into the need to close the distance between them, dropping to her knees by his side.

"Last one till tomorrow," Jack mused to the sandstone ceiling. He rolled his head to the side and saw her saddened expression. "Sorry." He made the effort to pull himself up into a sitting position, leaning back on his hands.

"Whatchya thinking about?" he asked after a moment of strangely awkward silence. Sam shook her head.

"Actually... not much. Going through the motions, I suppose."

When she lifted her eyes and met his, she felt the intense spark that cracked to life on rare occasions like this. She had the urge to quash it, but that urge disappeared when Jack leaned in an inch. The movement was slight but it made his intentions clear. Her eyes fell to his mouth then back up to his eyes. She could read his unspoken words in his chocolate coloured orbs.

_'Is this alright?'_

Her body moved on its own accord, leaning forwards enough to bring her lips within a breath of his. That was when reality hit home. She tentatively allowed her lips to touch his, but as soon as contact was made, her inhibitions left her like a flash. Years of tension eased in her stomach as the kiss carried on. God, it reminded her of the first time she's kissed him. She wasn't in her right mind at the time, but damn, she certainly was now! Jack returned her fervour, matching her passion with his own. Now he felt a very different fire, one he actually liked. Jack pulled away after a while, which promptly reminded Sam to breathe.

"How about now?" he panted, pressing his forehead to hers.

"I want to tell you exactly what I'm thinking."

Jack cupped her cheeks, drawing back enough to look into her eyes. "I know. I know exactly how you feel... every bit of it."

She let him draw her back in for another kiss and all the walls came tumbling down in a deafening crash.

~ SJ ~

The arms around her felt warm and secure as they cradled her back to the waking world. The sun was close to rising and there was a slight chill in the air. Jack snored quietly behind her; his body spooned around hers comfortably. She revelled in the unfamiliar state of bliss she found herself in, remembering the previous night with great clarity, until her mind went further back to his burning. This made her sniffle and propelled the silent tears down her cheek. It wasn't enough. She needed more.

Sam carefully extracted herself from her Colonel's arms, smiling at his peaceful features without realising. Jack rolled onto his back, still snoring happily and showing no signs of waking. How could she give this up?

The shield dropped as she finished dressing and when she automatically looked out into the Colosseum, her eyes went to the door on the higher level.

She couldn't. _She wouldn't. _What other choice was there?

With one last look at Jack, Sam steeled herself for a meeting with Zacabi. She'd been doing the right thing all her life. Now she would do what she wanted.

~ SJ ~

**I apologise for the lack of smut. I've learnt that most writers can either write battles and violence, or smut. Some can do both, but I'm not one of them. Battle sequences fall off my fingertips. Smut... well, that takes a lot of effort. Reviews welcome, but not mandatory.**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/Ramble: Productivity has been reduced to zip. Am not amused with self. I'm very, very, VERY sorry, I'm late! I think I may be switching (Temporarily) to some Hunger Games Fanfic soon. I think I'll do one SG story, one HG's. I hope nobody violently objects. Hey, I'm allowed my obsessions too! :D A short jump into first person as well. Mild (or moderate) gore and ickiness. THE END IS NOT THE END! **_**No matter what**__**,**_** we still have one chapter left (which will be fast tracked for you). Enjoy! **

**~ 17 ~**

Jack was scared shitless. He was going to die at the end of the day. He knew it was coming - accepted it, understood it - but by hell, he hadn't resigned himself to his fate just yet. It felt like he was experiencing a head-on collision in slow motion. You can see the headlights, you know what will happen and when, there will be nothing you can do, but you're not ready for it.

He's not ready.

Even the warm, loving arms wrapped around his waist weren't strong enough to hold him to the ground.

They had yet to utter a word to each other all day and he was confident this would remain the case until the very end. There was too much to be said to be wasted on mere words of the tongue. The conveyed everything through sombre glances and gentle touches filled with more than enough unspoken promises and regrets. It was blunt and straightforward and painfully raw for both of them. Their lone tree flanked them like a silent bodyguard, its ghostly grey remains of a once grand natural effigy; now only an unmoving mass turned into its own intricate tombstone. Even now as they looked over the ocean they were whispering to each other.

What a good time to see the hidden faces of one another. Maybe that's why he didn't want to see her face right now. He'd see something that wasn't yet familiar. He wouldn't see Carter in the same way she wouldn't be able to see Sir. Jack and Sam were foreign entities, but as he'd discovered over the past week, complimented each other in a strange but utterly fantastic manner.

There were countless things he wanted- _should _say to her. Last words and all. Only inane, pointless comments and questions came to mind. Where'd you go this morning? What's your favourite colour? How do you take your coffee? He'd never admit to knowing some of these things. She liked yellow, preferred her coffee black especially after a rough mission, went to the gym on Saturday mornings when she could, was more dedicated to her hair than anyone realised. So when the words managed to squeeze past his lips, they left a noticeable tingle.

"You were gone when I woke up..."

At this she finally moves, only to turn her head and press her other, wind-cooled cheek into the warm spot between his shoulder blades. An entire day of silence and she doesn't seem willing to break it. But she does, because he asked her to.

"Wasn't feeling well..." is all she says and for the first time since they'd been here, he can't bring himself to believe her. With the sun drifting towards the smooth, blue horizon he decides to let it go because there are better ways to end a day.

~ SJ ~

'Oh god, please don't ask me that... Please...'

Sam's brow crinkles when she hears him ask where she went this morning. It wasn't so simply as to leave the arena, but she'd been quick and careful. But she made it back in time for him to see her arrive, and to deduce the fact she'd disappeared while he'd slept in. There's only a few hours left; she'll have to lie. Being sick is conceivable in their situation. In part it's true. She was barely holding her stomach down when she left him.

He knows.

His silence is downright accusing and she will have to make a move if she wants that comfortable silence back, rather than the colder and more awkward air now wedging itself between them. She pulls away, which in turn prompts him to twist and lay his gaze upon her.

"How much longer do you think we'll have?"

This is strange to be coming from her, rather than Jack.

"An hour... Maybe." He drops his eyes and kicks an invisible object. "Might as well head back now, Carter."

"I'll stay."

"Carter..."

"For as long as I can."

"You can't risk it."

Sam opened her mouth to argue, but gave him a small, assured smile. "No risk."

Jack turned back to the cliff edge and, searching the ground first, lowered himself to the lush, grassy edge with his feet dangling high over the crashing waves. He probably didn't care about how dangerous the act was. Then again, she can't find herself to care either. It was easy to sit down beside him. They didn't touch, except when her hip brushed his thigh in her descent. To snuggle up together like they would on a couch while watching a movie would seem wrong. They knew that, like the watched pot that never boiled, they couldn't make time pass any slower - being an abstract and very human concept - but they try any way; try to watch the sun fall lower and lower and make the day longer.

It didn't work.

The closer to the horizon the sun came, the faster the tension grew. Sam knew he'd end their drawn out moment with his final order. To leave him and return to the sanctity of their- _her_cell.

"Alright..." he finally sighed, reaching out a hand which Sam clenched like it were a lifeline. She was anxious, but not for the moment when she would have to leave him.

Their goodbye was breath and silent, only a single kiss and an embrace cut short by Jack's urging for her to retreat. He didn't look back when she walked away, but returned his determined gaze to the blue yonder.

~ SJ ~

Unlike Jack, I _do _look back. My eyes never leave him as I walk towards the path that would take me back to the Colosseum... if it was my intention to return. Fear grips at my stomach like an iron fist and I have to press a hand to my stomach to try and calm it. I've been sitting in limbo all day, the anxiety lingering in the back of my mind, somewhere between the guilt in lying and maybe - depending how you look at it - betraying his final order, and the liberty of finally doing something completely insane and irrational but ultimately right.

I stop at the entrance to the forest and take a minute to watch him. In the face of his looming death, he seems calm and relaxed. His arms are folded casually and I may as well be walking up behind him while he stands in the Control room, watching the Gate dial to life.

I should give Teal'c and Daniel a chance to find me. Go back and sit in my cell. It's too late for that. I took control of my fate when I left Jack this morning. After being so powerless in this god-awful place, I finally can at least go on my terms and not Zacabi's.

Then it hits me.

The tendrils of warmth are cascading through my skin but it prompts my mind to find a solution. Jack assures me I work well, even at my best, under pressure. Right now, if the growing heat coursing through my veins is an indication, I may have found our miracle. The pain is branching out through my body and I can see that Jack feels it too. He's ready for death. I'm not.

My skin feels like it's being steamed and burned. It's agonising and I can't dedicate enough of my thoughts into berating my slow reaction. I need to get to him before it's too late.

The grass cuts into my crackling and bubbling skin as I take a step forwards, then another and another. Is this how a crab feels when it's being boiled alive? My muscles are protesting to being contracted and flexed while they are being cooked from the inside, but walking is now only a matter of not falling forwards. I can see Jack struggling to stay standign and I try to call his name, but a choked, unheard scream escapes instead.

"Jack!" I manage to get out when I'm within a few feet of him. His knees give way as he spins. I can tell by his eyes that he's trying not to cry out when I launch myself into his arms. Skin splits and singed flesh collides and we're ready to roar in defeat, but all I can say is:

"Trust me..."

We fall over the edge.

~ SJ ~

They fall together, the fire welding their flesh as they shoot towards the sea. They crash in a burst of steam and salt, bubbling the surrounding water. They sink into the depths, unmoving and still locked in their embrace. The sand floor accepts their bodies and cradles them, the sea embracing them.

The last words to pass Sam's mind before she thought nothing more were Zacabi's. She just prayed he was right.

~ SJ ~

***Dons protective helmet and armour* Ack! Don't even think about throwing you're hands in the air and cursing me! Have I ever killed a- _Permanently_... killed a main character? Nup. Stay tuned. Adi and I will fast track the final chapter to you.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Ramble: Just in case you were wondering what the 'A' was. The final chapter... *sad sigh* well, there is good news and bad news. The bad news is this is the last chapter (Surprise!); the good news is that this will allow me to begin the 'slightly' anticipated **_**'Vodka and Red Wine'**_**! Hazzuh! With that in mind, and for the last time, in this weird and... Yeah, 'weird' covered it... tale, Enjoy!**

**~ 18 ~**

_The previous morning_

"Teal'c. Doctor Jackson." The Commander of SG-2 touched the brim of his cap as his team, closely followed by SG-3, emerged from the event horizon.

"Major Cook." Daniel nodded to the younger man and smiled politely. Teal'c simply nodded.

"You said you found a trapping device near the beach?" He fell into step beside the civilian half of SG-1, who turned and began down the trail.

"Yes. We have reason to believe it was either Jack or Sam that got caught in it, but there's no sign of them in the near area." Daniel stumbled and nearing fell, if not for Teal'c, who clutched his vest at the shoulder.

"You sure it wasn't an animal of some kind?"

"We have detected no animal activity since out arrival," Teal'c supplied with his usual grumble, straightening Daniel without further comment.

"Then we'll start there."

~ SJ ~

Unlike her first visit to the upper levels of the Colosseum, there was nothing unusual about the sight below. Inmates lethargically dragged their feet into the arena and began to eat their meagre food rations. The statue was still burning away and Jack's beanie-covered head was absent in the crowd. Good.

Sam took a moment to lean against the stone rail that edged the balcony. Finding her way was far easier than the last time. A faint morning light illuminated the once-dark halls and the floors were clear of the debris that slowed her previous journey with Jack. Right. She pushed off the rail and continued along the balcony, safe in the understanding that none of the inmates bothered to look up. They probably had never even noticed that there were levels above their cells.

As she closed in on the door she and Jack had found, she slowed her pace, seeing it ajar and a figure standing at its threshold.

Zacabi was simply watching the scene below, his arms folded tightly across his chest. His gaze was still lazily drifting over the slow moving chaos below when she stepped up to the door. Sam didn't say anything, but shared the view until Zacabi trained his eyes onto her.

"Carter."

"I want you to take my band off." He squinted a little and tilted his head, unsure of what she meant. Sam lifted her shirt up just enough to reveal to flexible band circling her waist. "This thing."

"Why would Ido that?."

"You did to my friend."

"I assure you: he would be faring better with the manacle."

Okay, so they called it a 'manacle'. "You don't have to tell me that."

He tilted his head again, this time in curiosity. "Today is his last day."

"Yes."

He nodded, apparently understanding her intention. "If you have made up your mind, I'm sure I will not be able to dissuade you." He didn't leave time for confirmation, but swiftly turning and retreating into the room.

~ SJ ~

"You're sure it was here?" Major Cook patiently queried, standing in the sandy ditch where Teal'c and Daniel had discovered the trap only a few hours earlier. Daniel looked around, quelling his exasperation. He hated the way people questioned his judgement. Luckily the Major detected his mood. "Maybe someone came along and picked it up. We'll do a sweep anyway."

Cook pointed SG-2 down the beach in one direction, SG-4 in the other. Daniel searched his pocket for the shred of boot leather they had plucked from the now missing trap. It took some digging, but eventually he found it. Black tanned leather with flecks of boot polish. But still...

"What if we were wrong?"

Teal'c regarded his friend, but could only sigh quietly. "I am more concerned that we may have been right."

~ SJ ~

She was dead.

Sam wouldn't have really cared; she was too comfortable to want to go back if she was able. All she could comprehend was warmth and absolute security in a pair of arms that she was glad to have taken the time to get to know. Maybe she recognised the sand below her and the sky above her, but it was all too beautiful to be real. So they didn't matter.

She felt no manacle, no burning pain or the tickle of death's finger running down her nape. She was in her uniform, this much she knew. That seemed a little wrong: dying and entering the afterlife in her everyday fatigues. And she must be dead because she wasn't wearing anything on her feet. It was a very strange logic but the military does that to you.

"Mmm..." she felt her mew through her whole body and heard it ripple in the gentle passing winds. Oh, this was most definitely heaven.

"You sound comfortable." She could feel his words in his chest beneath her hand. She smiled happily. Strange, but she couldn't say she was anything other than that right now: completely happy.

"You're not?"

"Never been better."

She didn't need her eyes to know he was smiling from ear to ear.

"I could get used to this," she snuggled deeper into his side; Jack tightened his arm in agreement.

"Good thing we don't have a choice."

~ SJ ~

"Do you know the story of Syracuse, Major?"

Sam ground her teeth until she was sure they'd snap in her gums. The sharply edged cuffs dug into her wrists and she felt damn helpless lying face down on the stone alter. Zacabi was apparently completely unfazed by her state; he was content with preparing something on one of the shelves.

"How about Gods, do you know about them?"

"Oh, you're damn right I know them," Sam snapped, the rough surface scraping away at the soft skin of her cheek.

"Syracuse, our resident God of the seas, was at war with the God of fire and suns, Sabar." Suddenly the burning man in the colosseum came into Sam's mind. Zacabi continued, "The battle raged for years. The oceans boiled and flooded the burning land."

He came to the altar and clamped a hand across the back of Sam's neck. She tried not to flinch. He turned his head to the side and came down to look her in the eye, his blonde hair hanging like a curtain behind him.

"Sabar forged a grand sword to defeat his enemy. He could set a mountain alight with a single swing of the fiery blade." He stood up, disappearing from her view. "Poor Syracuse, he could not defeat the barbarian. They met at the cliffs, when the burning soils disappeared into the salty waters. Sabar's blade pierced his armour and shattered in his cold body." Sam felt his breath against her ear. "You know what happens to something hot, when it meets something cold suddenly, Samantha. You're a woman of science."

"Yes..." Sam scrunched up her nose, waiting for the imminent pain.

"Syracuse fled to the water, because the seas would always protect him from his enemies. Defeated, he disappeared into the depths with the shards of his enemy's weapon. Many years passed before the waters cooled enough, but when Syracuse had reconciled his shame, he chose to return to land. The sands became flesh and the shattered sword warmed the seawater in his veins."

Samantha.

She never told him her name.

_"You are 'Major'?"_

_"Yes. That's my title on my home world. You can call me... Carter."_

"Some, but not many, believe he still walks along the beaches. The colosseum and the statue were built to honour his defeat. If not for him, what you have seen would not exist."

"You said they were to honour Sabar."

"I lied. The shards of Sabar's sword are still used to enforce our laws. You will find, Major, that legend is very much a reality here."

Sam didn't have a chance to reply. White hot pain blinded her and took her breath away, too maddening to allow her to even draw a breath to scream.

~ SJ ~

"Doctor Jackson?" Cook squinted into the distance along the beach, halting the returning search party. They'd traversed the never-ending beach until it was agreed that the Colonel and Major would have no reason to go so far, especially if one or both were injured. It was only as they'd turned around that the unusually young Major noticed something in the distance from his peripheral vision. It was probably nothing; a rock or a pile of seaweed. Still... he pulled out his folding pair of binoculars to get a closer look.

"What is it?" Daniel was back at his side.

"I'm not sure, Sir. See that object about four hundred metres down the shore?"

"Ah, yeah. Sort of. What can you see?"

"It's probably nothing."

"No, let's go have a look."

Cook checked his watch, aware of the time they had to dedicate to searching the rest of the area.

"We'll go." He turned to the rest of his slightly sun-burnt team, "Find a spot in the shade boys; we'll be back in ten."

SG-2 offered little resistance and retreated to the blissful protection of the tree-line while Daniel and Major Cook continued down the shoreline to the dark object.

~ SJ ~

Lightning hot pain in her neck. The burning effigy. Falling off the cliff. The cold, churning saltwater. Jack.

_"I lied."_

"_The shards of Sabar's sword are still used to enforce our laws._"

_"Syracuse fled to the water, because the seas would always protect him..."_

They weren't dead.

Sam's eyes snapped open, instantly blinded by sharp rays that cut straight into her retina. She had to roll away from Jack and the brief sting behind her eyes, startling him in turn.

Jack jolted at her sudden movement and automatically took in his surroundings; they were on the beach. What a surprise. Sarcasm aside, the fact that they weren't seeing pillars and angels was indeed a shock. Didn't they fall off the cliff, both burning-

"Carter!" He whirled around and pinned her with an intense glare.

Yes, it was coming back to him like a punch to the face. Not only did Sam share in his punishment, but threw them both off a cliff! He was nearly dizzy from the sudden change of mood, feeling utter peace to total outrage. Why in hell would she do a thing like that? Risk her life? Come back for him? A quiet voice in his head offered an answer, but he quelled it quickly. Surely she wasn't afraid to be left alone.

And where were they now?

Obviously not dead, but should be.

"We hit the water before we died," Sam panted and pressed a hand to her chest, whether to relieve a physical or emotional pain, Jack couldn't guess.

"But-"

A sound caught in the wind drew their eyes along the sandy beach, silencing them completely. Jack looked back to her, now wholly confused; Sam met his gaze and opened her mouth, but no words came.

~ SJ ~

"Is that...?" Cook whispered as they came closer to the object and realised it was a body. They walked faster and broke into a run when not only did the object move, but broke into two. Two people. Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter.

"Hey!" Daniel yelled, pushing himself into a sprint with Major Cook on his heels. The soft sand kept moving beneath their feet but they pressed on, Daniel waving his hands to attract their attention.

~ SJ ~

"Daniel?" They spoke at the same time, looking to each other again. Sam scampered to her feet, her legs shaking with weakness and painfully stiff.

"Daniel!" the Colonel barked, taking longer to rise than his Second in Command. Who was following him? Where was Teal'c?

"Major Cook?" Sam asked when their friend slowed to a jog and met them in the middle.

"What the Hell is going on?" Jack asked, looking to Daniel.

"Sir, Major, are either of you injured?" Cook snapped his head from left to right, trying to look him and Carter over at the same time.

"We're..." He looked to Sam. "...Fine. How long have we been gone?"

"What? Only a day. We couldn't contact you and found a trap with blood on it. We had to call in some teams to help with the search. Where have you guys been?"

Jack looked to his Major. Only a day? They'd been gone for... what? At least a month. Sam's dropped her eyes to his bare feet. Where did his boot go? The trap! He knelt down and lifted the bottom of his pants. No scar from the trap. He certainly didn't imagine that. He lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his neck. No cut or pain. He only had to meet Sam's gaze to know she was asking the same questions, which confirmed at least one thing: she remembered everything too. That made it real, right?

Cook turned away to send a call over the radio to the rest of their search party, advising them they'd found the Colonel and Major alive and physically well.

"Guys, what's going on?"

"Daniel, we've been gone for more than a day," Sam tried to explain, but she probably didn't even have her head wrapped around their situation any better than Jack did.

"No you haven't," Daniel countered with a concerned frown.

"Yeah, we have," Jack argued.

"Have not."

"Have too."

"Sir," Sam cut in. That hurt. Going back to 'Sir' so quickly. After everything...

"Um, how about we talk about this when we get back," Daniel began to walk, prompting his teammates to follow. Sam and Jack trudged the sands, like they remembered doing for the last ten days. They seemed to notice how close they were and moved away at the same time, the movement did not go unnoticed by Daniel.

~ SJ ~

High on a cliff that remained unseen to the mortal eyes below, three figures stood by a grand, grey tree. The wind whistled quietly and blew blonde, red and lilac hair in every direction, but never in the eyes that followed the Earthling party.

"Achieve what you set out to do?" Xerus asked Zacabi, who was very comfortable leaning back against the solid trunk with his hands sandwiched behind his back and a content smirk on his face.

"Don't I always?"

"You know how we feel about interfering..." Merrit was quick to remind him.

"And you both know that your 'guidelines' don't mean anything to me." He rolled his head to the right, blinking a few times at the Nox beside him. "It didn't stop you, did it?"

"When the opportunity presents itself, who am I to refuse?"

"You did well, by the way. These two are hard to fool, you know."

"I know. Now if you don't mind..."

Zacabi waved a hand flippantly. "By all means. Thank you."

Merrit nodded once and walked towards the woods, her small elfish figure melting into white light and disappearing in the wind. Zacabi watched her and sighed deeply before turning to his companion.

"You think it worked?"

Xerus puckered his lips thoughtfully and canted her head to the side. "If your intention was to nudge them... then yes. I'd say you did a good job."

"I try," Zacabi grinned proudly. Xerus shook her head at him, her fire-truck red hair shaking like a pompom.

"You're a bit like him. The Colonel."

"I take that as a complement. Omnipotence has its uses but even we can't instigate the kinds of change that man does. He does his job and I do mine. He keeps changing the balance of power in the galaxy... and I keep him on the right path. We all have our place."

Xerus nodded gently and held out a soft, slender hand; Zacabi grinned and shook it carefully.

"I'll call you," he assured her, but Xerus chuckled loudly as she began the path Merrit walked moments earlier.

"That's what they all say!" She gave him a careless wave and disappeared into a ghost of light.

Zacabi cast his eyes over the infinite sea, the winds brewing into a gale force. Time to move on. His clothes fluttered in the strong gusts and his body began to disintegrate into tiny grains of sand, catching to wind until his clothes were left in pile, pushed along the grass by the fading breeze.

~ SJ ~

"Carter," Jack caught her elbow just before they passed through the event horizon. He tilted his head to the Stargate, silently ordering SG-4 to continue through. Once they were alone again, he released her arm. It felt good to be alone with her again. He'd gotten very comfortable with having only her for company.

"Sir..."

"Yeah..."

And back to being awkward. That sucked.

"Are we supposed to forget?" Sam wondered, not brave enough to meet his eye.

"How can we? Besides," he reached out and poked her shoulder, "I still agree about getting used to the hugging thing. I'm pretty sure that was real, even if everything else wasn't."

"The thing is, Jack, I know it was real."

He knew that too, despite what little logic he possessed was telling him. He liked hearing his name one last time, knowing very well they'd go back to 'Sir' and 'Carter' once they stepped through the Gate.

"Which begs the question... how much do we leave behind? We can't do our jobs and take... _that_... with us."

Sam knew. She knew this painfully well.

Jack frowned sceptically when she held out her hand. Jack slowly gave her an open palm, waiting for her to drop something in his hand. She stopped for a moment, her fist touching his skin. Like it was before.

"We don't have to leave everything behind." She opened her hand.

_The button._

Jack stared at it for a second and then smiled warmly to Sam. It was real. One day it'll be real on Earth too.

"A charm from the skies seems to hallow us here, which, seek through the world, is never met with elsewhere...?" he recalled quietly.

...Home. Home, Sweet Home."

~ SJ ~

**Finished! Moving to 'Completed Stories' folder! Wow, what a feeling. It's 0345, but this is done. My nails look like watermelon slices. Peace and Love to you all!**

**And happy Mother's day! Hug your mum and remind her you love her!**


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